


The Telltale Lie Book 3

by muse51



Series: Scorpio Intelligence Network [3]
Category: General Hospital
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-19 23:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17011470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse51/pseuds/muse51
Summary: Is it game, set and match? Amidst the preparations for the fundraiser and the theater grand opening, each side attempts to outmaneuver and outwit the other. Little by little, Anna and Robert's lost years are chronicled courtesy of late night dreams, dark memories and a trip back to the Markham Islands.The Scorpio Intelligence Network makes its first bold moves on the chessboard. But will overconfidence blind them to seeing the obvious?





	1. In With the New

**Author's Note:**

> This is Book 3 of The Telltale Lie series of books.

January 2, 2009, Port Charles evening

At Zekker’s Bakery, business was brisk even at night. Carl Zekker rang up another satisﬁed customer. He smiled when he saw his younger brother Rolf come in through the front entrance. He nodded at Dana and Stanis, his counter helpers, to let them know that the counter was theirs. He joined his brother at a corner table. It wasn’t their favorite table but you couldn’t argue with paying customers. The bakery was more than half full.

“Business is good,” said Carl with evident relish. Years in the states had polished his hard German accent.

“Every day and night this week this place is packed,” marveled Rolf.

Carl jerked a thumb in the direction of the construction zone across the street. “That’s our good luck charm, Rolf.”

Rolf knew that the Mediaplex project was a source of revenue for a lot of businesses in the area not just the bakery. On nights he worked the counter, he saw that work never stopped at the project. When it got dark, work moved indoors. Workers scurried in and out of the building at all hours. He’d rarely seen the inside lights turned oﬀ.

“Another batch of workers just started on the DigiMaze building,” said Carl. “Their breakfast orders are enormous.”

“I only have afternoon classes tomorrow. I’ll come in and help you bake. No arguments.”

“Hey, I got help. You’re going to graduate from college and nothing is going to stop that,” countered Carl.

“College is ﬁne. I’m ahead on all my classes. You need my help here.”

“If you want to help out get some dinner and help me close tonight,” Carl turned around when he heard the door chime. He stood up smiling when he saw who it was. Hand extended he greeted his customers and old friends. “Sean! Tiﬀany! You two look great!”

“Carl! Nice to see you again, sugar,” said Tiﬀany giving Carl a big hug. Tiﬀany pulled back and introduced Belle. “Carl, this is our daughter Belle. Belle, this Carl Zekker, the best baker in the state.”

“You’re too kind, Tiﬀany.” Carl laughed and shook Belle’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Belle. Consider the bakery as a second home.”

“She’s been working her ﬁngers to the bone at the theater all day long,” said Tiﬀany. “We needed a break.”

“Sean, I want you to meet my younger brother Rolf. Rolf, this is Sean Donely, my old boss on the docks and the man who gave me the loan to start this place when every bank turned me down cold. His wife Tiﬀany Hill and their daughter Belle,” said Carl beaming. Rolf stood up and faced the couple. “Rolf is studying electrical engineering at PCU.”

“Electrical engineering, eh. Listen, we’re going to be sponsoring interns and hiring technicians at DigiMaze pretty soon. We can always use good people.”

“An internship? I’d love one,” said Rolf a little stunned at the opportunity that had landed in his lap. With the weak economy he had been privately worried that landing his ﬁrst job outside of school would be impossible. But an internship at DigiMaze that was something else.

“He’s going to be the best worker you’ve ever had. I’ll make sure of it,” said Carl.

“I know he will be,” said Sean with a smile. He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his coat and handed it to Carl. “You usually deal with Salim but he’s busy so here’s the order for the rest of the week. Plus a partial check. Invoice us for the balance.”

“Wow! You got an army over there?”

“It feels that way sometimes,” laughed Tiﬀany. “It’s a madhouse.”

“You have an evening order, too,” said Carl reading the order in detail. “Pots of coﬀee, small sandwiches, lots of fruit.”

“We have some tight deadlines and a relentless lead project manager. Work is going round the clock,” said Sean. “Are you going to be able to handle it? I can split the order with somebody else.”

“I got it, Sean. I’ve got some extra help coming in part-time. We’ll be ﬁne. The advance check is a nice bonus,” said Carl. “Can I get you anything while you’re here?”

“We came over here with some of our foremen.” Sean gestured towards Giles, Lars and Genji who were placing their orders with Dana. “I wouldn’t mind a sandwich. Turkey on asiago focaccia bread.”

“I remember just the way you like it. Coming up. Tiﬀany?” asked Carl. “We have a pot of chicken and wild rice soup. Home made and fresh from this morning.”

“You know my weakness. A cup of soup for me, please,” said Tiﬀany. After exchanging a look with Belle, she added, “Make that two.”

Sean, Tiﬀany and Belle took a table near the window. They could see the crew testing the big marquee lights. Under the working neon Majestic sign, the announcement of ‘Under New Management” was hard to miss. Large work lights illuminated the square between the theater and the DigiMaze store. Many cars slowed down to gawk and gape at all the activity.

“So, Daddy, what was the family discussion you wanted to have?” asked Belle going straight to the point. She added in a resigned voice, “When are we going home?”

The distressed tone in the last comment took Sean by surprise. A quick look at Tiﬀany told him that she wasn’t surprised. He’d have to talk to Tiﬀany about this one later. Belle sounded as if she were on the edge of an epic temper tantrum.

“Well, honey, I know you miss your friends and your school,” began Sean soothingly.

“Not really,” said Belle.

“Okay,” said Sean drawling the word out as he tried to ﬁgure out his daughter’s mood. “That’s actually good because I wanted to talk about ... about moving back here permanently.”

“Oh, honey, can we?” Tiﬀany fairly squealed with delight.

Belle bit her lower lip. She ﬁdgeted in her seat.

“Are you okay with this, sweetie pie?” asked Sean. “We’ll do the move over a month so it’s not so hectic.” He searched his daughter’s face for clues to her distress but found none. "Getting used to a new school is hard but I know you can manage it."

“This feels more like home than Boston. We have Anna, Robert, Bobbie, Mac, Robin and tons of people around us here,” said Tiﬀany. “I always felt like we lived in a cocoon in bean town.”

“You won’t be police chief anymore, Daddy?” asked Belle.

“I don’t like to admit it but your Daddy is getting too old to be a cop and shuﬄe paperwork all day long. I want to get my hands dirty in the business world again.” “You’re going to keep helping Andy?” “We’re partners in some of our ventures. You know that. Andrew has a lot to learn and I’m glad to teach him what I know,” said Sean. “You’re still numero uno with me.”

“I’m not jealous, Daddy," said Belle in a near monotone.

“That’s good, sugar plum,” said Tiﬀany. "There's no need to be at all. I love that boy already but he can be a bit much."

“Why do I get that you’re not happy about this Belle?” asked Sean. Tiﬀany kicked his leg under the table. He glared at her. “What?” They were further distracted by a commotion at the counter. While they had been talking three young men had entered the bakery. They had gone straight behind the counter and were now talking heatedly with Carl. Rolf had moved to stand beside Carl.

Sean’s instinct for trouble was on alert. When one of the young men pushed Carl on the chest, Sean gave a signal to Lars, Giles and Genji. The three men quickly had the troublemakers under control and escorted outside the store.

Sean spoke with Carl. “Trouble, Carl?”

“You know I can’t talk about it, Sean,” Carl replied.

“You can with me,” cajoled Sean.

“Business is good up and down the street because of the project, right? Now, they want a higher cut for protection.”

“What kind of protection?”

“The old-fashioned kind that I don’t have to spell out."

Rolf put a hand on Carl’s shoulder. “I suggest you check some of the recent arson cases, Mr. Donely, especially the unsolved ones.”

“Rolf, that’s enough,” hissed Carl.

“All right. I understand,” said Sean. “We’ve been approached by the same parties for the same kind of protection policy. We’ve said no and that answer isn’t going to change. If you need help, we’re just across the street, remember that.”

“Thank you, Sean. I appreciate it.”

“You can spread the word if you like,” said Sean with a smile and a hard glint of determination in his eye. “Um, you know, I have an idea. We bought all the surrounding buildings at the mediaplex. It would be a good idea to diversify the store mix. I’ll ask my partners about a food court maybe with a bakery.”

“I’d be very interested in that, Sean. Plus a few others business people I know,” said Carl. “The other side of the street is looking more and more attractive.”

“Won’t certain parties be upset if they lose revenue from the protection scheme?” asked Rolf.

“I imagine so.” said Sean. “We’ll deal with that when it happens.”

* * *

Returning from the bakery, Belle surveyed what was previously the radio station’s former writers room. The room ran to long and narrow. The room’s saving graces were its high ceiling and the two windows that stretched nearly touched the ceiling. They overlooked the south side of the theater with a partial view of the square. The upper half of the windows contained panes of stained glass that in the daytime bathe the room in light and color. Bulletproof glass was on order to be hung outside to serve as protection and storm windows.

Because of its shape and view, the room was being transformed into the central workspace for the team with long counters running along one wall to serve as desks and workstations. Cubby holes and built in shelves above the counters provided more than adequate storage. Whiteboards were hung on the opposite wall. In front of the whiteboard area was a small sitting area. Suspended in the air above the sitting area with a good view of the whiteboards hung a large monitor with an attached camera. There was a secured hidden panel somewhere that held weapons and sensitive electronics. She just couldn’t remember where it was.

Since Andrew had decided to do the wiring and gadget cabling himself, the room was a mess. Tools lay scattered on the counter. Cabling and wires ran across the ﬂoor like intertwining snakes. A box of ﬂat monitors and keyboards lay open against the far wall.

“For someone who's meticulous and precise in everything else he does, your workplace habits are sloppy. How do you ﬁnd anything?” asked Belle standing close to a pair of skinny jean-clad legs sticking out from under a wide counter recently bolted to the newly plastered wall. She placed a carryout bag from Zekkers on the counter. “Here, I brought you a sandwich.”

“There is always a method to the madness even if I’m the only one who can see it,” came Andrew’s muﬄed voice. “What kind?”

“A French bread baguette with smoked ham, light mustard and provolone cheese with a small salad,” said Belle. “I asked Salim what you liked.”

“Eﬃcient use of initiative. Thank you,” said Andrew. “Could you hand me the spanner?”

“Do you trust me to KNOW what a spanner is?” asked Belle sarcastically. “I’m just an empty-headed girl. I might give you the wrong one and ruin EVERYTHING.”

“Fine! I’ll get it myself." Andrew withdrew from under the table. He rose prematurely and banged his head on the underside of the table. “Ow!”

"So empty-headed that I had to be treated like a simpleton," Belle continued. "Once you knew who I was, you should have told me who you were, Andy."

"And break cover in the process? That was not an option."

"You didn't trust me."

As Andrew looked for the spanner, his stomach rumbled."I barely knew you. Trust is far too much to expect."

"I did save your life, remember that?"

"You are once again deluded by your revisionist tendencies." Andrew spotted his lunch and reached for it. "I said I was sorry. Did I not?"

"Did you?" Belle tapped a ﬁnger on her lip. "I seem to remember someone ducking me every chance he got all through dinner. You didn't have to watch Emma all night long. I thought you liked me."

"I do. I did. I still do," snapped Andrew opening the take out bag and laying out his evening snack. "Don't be a daft girl!"

"Well, I might as well be a leper with the way you avoid me."

"Hardly. You're underfoot all the time."

"You need all the help you can get here." Belle shot back. "Are you going to deny that? Am I useless?"

"Thank you for all your help, Belle. You are not useless." Andrew took a bite out of his sandwich.

"You're welcome, Andy."

Andrew looked at her. "So, we're all right now?"

"I haven’t decided whether to accept your apology.”

Andrew put his sandwich down in annoyance. “What do you want? A lifetime penance?”

“Some acknowledgment that you respect me would be nice,” said Belle.

“Perhaps a big C on my forehead for being the unrelenting chauvinist you think I am would suﬃce.”

“You’re just so old-fashioned, Andy.”

“I prefer the term alpha male in the making like my father.” Andrew resumed munching on his sandwich. “There’s n-not-nothing wrong with that.”

Belle bent down slightly and saw the very large hole cut into the wall. “At the rate you’re going, you’ll be here all night.”

“I want it done right the ﬁrst time.”

“Let me help and it will get done faster,” argued Belle. “How hard could it be?”

“I prefer to do things a certain way. H-h-hard to explain,” Andrew said.

"Don't you mean that you're ﬁguring it out as you go but won't admit it?"

Andrew ignored the jibe. He swallowed a bit and said, “This is good. Where?”

“Zekkers. Across the street.” Belle picked up a clean rag and began to wipe oﬀ the new counters. She could feel Andrew watching but he seemed to have no objection to her actions. “Mr. Zekker had some trouble.”

“Hmm, like what?” asked Andrew still eating.

“The OC and protection insurance.”

“The OC?”

“Organized crime and their intimidation of local businesses. You know - cash for protection.”

“They are persistent.” Andrew tossed his salad. “What kind of trouble?”

“A shakedown by three guys. Mr. Zekker didn’t like it,” said Belle. “If our men hadn’t been there, it could have ended badly. For Mr. Zekker I mean.”

“Hopefully, a rise in prosperity in this area will give the merchants the conﬁdence and money to stand up to the OC. Right now, based on the economic analysis I’ve done, this area’s businesses are barely breaking even,” said Andrew. “And, did you know, that the real estate across the street is mostly owned by OC company fronts.”

“The businesses are being squeezed twice over,” concluded Belle.

“Uh, huh. This salad is delicious.”

“That’s so wrong!”

“Predators and their prey. The trick is for the prey to evolve so it’s no longer palatable to the predator. And there are more predators in economically depressed areas than in areas that are not,” said Andrew. “The long term solution is economic stability, education and consistent growth.”

Andrew’s phone beeped. “Yes, Uncle Andre. All right. I need a few minutes to gather everyone.” Andrew looked perplexedly at Belle for a few seconds. Then his shoulders sagged. “Bloody hell, you might as well know, too. A low proﬁle is impossible.”

“Know what?” “Go downstairs and tell your parents, Jacques and Salim that Andre has called an emergency meeting,” ordered Andrew. “I’ll explain later. You can sit in if you like.”

"I'd like that," said Belle before sprinting out of the door to let everyone know.

Andrew activated the enormous monitor. A few minutes later the images of Andre and Felicia appeared. On a small picture-in-picture area on the large screen appeared Anna, Robert and Robin from the villa. The others straggled in one by one or in pairs. They took seats all around the room.

“Everyone’s here,” said Andrew. At a questioning look from Sean, Andrew replied. “Belle can stay. She uh ... uh could prove useful. I think.”

Belle’s eyes shone with pleasure at the compliment. "Apology accepted."

"I'm so relieved," said Andrew dryly but his small smile gave his true feelings away.

Sean nudged Tiﬀany. His gaze on his daughter then Andrew and back to Belle. "What apology?"

Tiﬀany whispered to him, “Explain later.”

* * *

 

“Felicia, you’re the best person to explain this,” said Andre.

Felicia began to detail her trip to Malaga including her surveillance of Señora Peterson and Etienne Gastineau. At the end she pressed a control on the console. It ﬂashed a clear picture of Señora Peterson. “This is our mystery woman. Who is she? What is her connection to the Cassadines and now D99?”

“It can’t be,” said Anna. “She’s ... Alex said ... it can’t be her.”

“Who is she?” asked Robert.

“It's Charlotte Devane, my aunt by marriage,” Anna said. "This has to be a mistake."

“Another relative,” said Robin. "They're coming out of the woodwork."

“Robin, this is the woman who sent assassins after me in Pine Valley. Remember, Alex showed you her picture? This woman is NOT to be trusted. She kidnapped Alex at birth and raised her as her own. Then brainwashed and trained Alex to kill me and take my place. This person is no one to our family.” Anna looked hard at each of her children. “Do not get anywhere near her. Robin, Andrew, you understand me?”

Robin nodded but Andrew remained silent.

“Let’s discuss Charlotte and the Devane connection at another time. It’s too late in the day for all this drama,” said Robert. “Let’s deal with the matter at hand. What is Charlotte to Helena? What is Charlotte to D99?”

Felicia interrupted, “A couple more things, Robert. When Etienne was looking at the pictures in the cafe, a picture dropped out. This one.” On their screen the slashed picture of Claudio appeared.

“Claudio is one of many targets then,” said Jacques. “Felicia, were you able to see the other pictures? Were they disﬁgured as this one is?”

“No, Jacques. I didn’t see the others clearly. That slash is hard to miss. I don’t believe I saw it on the others,” said Felicia. “The next piece of information I have is what I overheard Etienne saying on the phone. He was talking to someone named Frank. He was angry at some mistake. He mentioned that he had more information on Frank’s second job, whatever it is. And that they would have a meeting tomorrow at a place and time known only to themselves.”

“We believe the ﬁrst task is the arms deal,” said Sean.

Anna added, “We know from Tracy that D99 is involved with the peace conference next month.”

“That Claudio is attending,” supplied Robert. “In a cockeyed way, it ﬁts.”

“An assassination at such an event by terrorists would be news,” said Jacques. “That is the D99 end of things. What about Helena?”

“And Charlotte,” Andrew spat the name out. “What is her role?”

“Let’s call Alex in the morning, Andrew. We need answers.” Anna drew a short breath as another piece of the puzzle fell into place in her head. “She’s the one.”

“The one?” asked Robert looking at Anna beside him.

“The one who wants Emma. It’s her modus operandi,” said Anna. “She did it once. She’ll do it again. And with Helena’s help, she could get away with it.”

"Take Emma like she took Alex?" Robin was horriﬁed.

Anna nodded.

“Surely not,” said Salim. “That is insane. Unthinkably so.”

Robin spoke, “Helena has gotten away with murder, with kidnappings and god only knows what else. She commits these crimes with impunity then disappears. She’s never paid for her crimes. Now, she's helping someone who wants Emma?"

“They will have to get through all of us ﬁrst,” said Anna. “I promise you it won’t be easy.”

"But, this Charlotte woman, Mom. She sounds equally capable of anything." Robin's distress was obvious.

Robert's expression was solemn. The glint of hardened resolve shone brightly in his eyes. "Robin, Emma is our highest priority. We will do anything we have to do to keep her safe."

 


	2. Command and Control

__

_Villa Scorpio 6AM_

Anna pressed the phone’s speed dial setting. After the scrambler tones stopped, the call was answered. “Alex, I’ll get to the point. Andrew and Robin are here with me. We have questions that only you can answer. I hope you're sitting down.”

“I see. I’m sitting down. Go ahead,” said Alex.

“We have physical evidence that Charlotte is no longer at Weltonby Penitentiary.”

“Of course she is, Anna. She's under constant surveillance. We haven’t been informed of any problems. There must be a mistake."

Andrew leaned across the table. “Aunt Alex, I don’t think Scotland Yard knows. Is it possible that ... that another woman has taken her place?”

“Weltonby is a medium security prison. Your theory has potential but how likely is it?” asked Alex carefully. “What evidence do you have?”

Anna took a deep breath. “Video, Alex, fairly close and clear. She looked just like the pictures you’ve shown us.”

“We shouldn't jump to conclusions. We need to be sure. I’ll go to Weltonby personally,” said Alex. “Why the interest in her now?”

“Given her ... history with you, how likely is she to plan another baby kidnapping?”

This was greeted by a silence on the other end of the line.

“Alex?”

“I ... I don’t ... is ... you wouldn’t ask unless you had suspicions,” said Alex her words laced with doubt and shock. "What's going on, Anna?"

“I have to update you fully but that'll take time. Just know that we are aware of threats against all the kids but especially Emma,” said Anna. “Yesterday, we were given proof that Charlotte is working with a global mercenary group who’s not above terrorism or kidnapping.”

“Would she try again?” asked Robin earnestly. Unconsciously, her grip tightened around Emm happily gurgling on her lap.

Alex sighed. “I hate to say it but, yes, Charlotte is entirely capable. If it serves her purposes, then she’ll find a way.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Anna.

“It seems I’ve missed a great deal since Bern,” said Alex.

Anna laughed. “That would be an understatement.”

“I want details on Bern, too." Robin added, "You ought to visit. There’s plenty of room at Mom’s new place.”

“I believe we will. Dimitri has some business over there. I’ll bring him along,” said Alex.

“Right now we can use all the extra help we can get. We’ll see you when you get here,” said Anna ending the call. They all turned at a knock on the study door.

“Mornin’, there’s a bunch of trucks coming down the drive. More visitors?” asked Patrick. Still in pajamas and a robe, it was obvious he had just woken up. A steaming cup of coffee was in his hand. He gave Robin and Emma their morning kisses.

“Ah, my collections!” exclaimed Andrew practically skipping out the door.

Anna followed her son outside burning with curiousity. The Drakes trailed after them.

“I could so get used to this lifestyle,” said Patrick buttoning his coat. “It’s like living at a resort full time. I feel so relaxed and rested.”

Robin laughed. “We don’t want you getting too spoiled.”

“Too late,” said Patrick. “The guest cottage is fantastic. I have to thank Mom.”

Robin reached up and kissed Patrick. “Alex is coming over with her husband Dimitri.”

“That’s her twin, right?”

“Uh, huh. You ready to meet her?”

“I suppose I can get used to two of them. How do you tell them apart?”

“They’re like night and day.”

Outside in the courtyard, Robert, dressed for the day, played traffic cop directing the rumbling trucks so they lined up for easy off loading. Andrew disappeared inside an open truck trailer.

Anna saw the contents of the last truck and her concern grew. On the flatbed truck was stacked a mountain of fabricated metal.

“Robert, did you forget to tell me something.” Anna sidled up to Robert. “What is all this?”

“Andrew’s collections,” said Robert in a way that implied that those two words were sufficient explanation.

“Okay, and that last truck is ...?”

“The building where the collections will be housed until the vaults in C and C are completed.”

Anna was preparing a blistering retort when Andrew and Giles came up to her both carrying paintings that immediately transfixed her attention. “Here you are, Mother. Consider these my contributions to our home's decor. Caravaggio’s charcoal sketch of Narcissus by the Pool and an oil by Bassaño work name unknown but it is authentic.”

Even to Anna’s not entirely unpracticed eyes these works were genuine masterpieces. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Wow!”

“If these are not to your taste, I do have a large Pollock and a Picasso sculpture in the modern style in the truck.”

“How did you get these?”

“Collectors often run into debt and I’m known as a private buyer in some circles,” said Andrew cryptically. “I also have some eastern art - jade, terra cotta and the like. I believe I still have a Remington sculpture in a box somewhere. I lost the inventory file unfortunately.”

“These are all legal?” asked Anna.

“Legitimate and known purchases, yes, Mother. For insurance purposes I don’t advertise my ownership,” Andrew said with a knowing look.

“These belong in a museum, Andrew.”

“I agree. I have not stayed in one place long enough to make donations or arrange for showings. Besides, I collect because I like them not for the sake of collecting as others do,” said Andrew. “They are excellent long term investments.”

A cry of “My baby!” filled the air. Robin ran to a truck where a sleekly muscular black motorcycle was being rolled down the ramp.

Robert grinned at his daughter's enthusiasm and delight.

Anna kissed Robert on the cheek. “You are too sweet.”

“You’re the one who told me she still had it in storage in Paris. Simple matter to have it shipped along with Andrew’s stuff,” said Robert. “My trunk is in one of these trucks. Keep an eye out for it.”

Standing by the motorcycle, Patrick’s eyes were threatening to pop out of his head in amazement. “Your baby? You rode this?”

“Oh, yeah, I took it all over Europe. It beats driving a car.” Robin very nearly caressed the leather seat and gas tank. “I got it used but near mint.”

“But ... but ... but this is a Harley Davidson!” exclaimed Patrick.

“A 1994 Superglide to be exact.” Robin pointed out salient details of the cycle to Andrew who was inspecting the engine. “Don’t worry. I always wore a helmet.”

“It’s not that. I’m just having a little mental whiplash. You and a motorcycle don’t add up," said Patrick.

Anna patted Patrick on the shoulder. “Robin is an amazing driver. She’s better than I am. We cycled from Paris to Athens once. It was fantastic!”

Patrick’s head whipped around. “You ... you ... and ...“

Robert put an arm around Patrick’s other shoulder. “Never underestimate Devane women. First lesson, son.”

Patrick looked down at Emma whose eyes were glued to the big shiny beast of a motorcycle. “Oh, my god. Karate, guns now motorcycles.”

“Go with the flow, Patrick. There’s absolutely nothing you can do. Besides, the Scorpio side should balance out the wilder Devane side. Except when they’re on the warpath. That’s when you run in the opposite direction. Fast,” Robert advised.

“Wild?” Anna raised a brow at the word.

Robert winked at Anna. “Lucky for me.”

Anna focused her attention on the other Scorpio male. “Andrew, what is this building you’re having put up and what is in these trucks. I count six here.”

“Two trucks have all my books. One has artwork, jewelry and the like. One has my models - trains, war games, animals. One has my electronics lab and science equipment. The last has my car and my custom servers,” said Andrew rising from his exploration of the motorcycle. “And we’ll be putting up a prefabricated steel building in the shape of a modern barn. It shan't ruin the aesthetic. I did get a 50% discount because they wanted to clear inventory. This model was not very popular.”

“How ... how big is this building going to be?”

“Only 140 feet wide and 210 feet long with a loft that we’ll turn into extra usable space at some point,” said Andrew calmly. “Once the underground vaults are done, then I can move my things there. The new barn can be a real barn for animals, storage and a garage. Whatever you desire, Mother.”

Taken aback by her son's litany of plans, Anna had no reply. For a few minutes, she watched her son flit from one truck to another. She was experiencing an unknown emotion as if she were staring at a tsunami headed straight for her and she was powerless to stop it or look away.

Anna pulled Robert to the side for a private conversation. “You warned me.”

“I did. I tried,” replied Robert. “He can be very focused.”

“But this is-” spluttered Anna.

“Luv, he didn’t have much when he was growing up. They moved too often. I take that back. Andrew had a stamp collection that he always carried with him. When we settled in Paris and the business took off, Andrew went shopping in a big way,” explained Robert. “He plays as hard as he works.”

“Robert, is the business THAT profitable?”

“I’ll show you the books one day. DigiMaze does a lot of private contract work and that’s where most of the profits come from.”

“Those paintings are in the six figures, easy,” insisted Anna. "Art is a very sound long term investment but he shouldn't be putting all his eggs in one basket. Has he had these valued lately?"

“Andrew was probably the buyer of last resort, luv. I'm sure that he got them for a very good price. He never pays retail for anything of that quality,” said Robert.

"He's just so ... so ..." Anna tried to find the right words.

"I know." Robert commiserated with her knowing full well what she was feeling.

"Just when I think I have a good grasp of his ... his Andrew-ness, he does something like this."

"And to think he's still a teenager. What's he going to be like in five years?"

"You're enjoying my travails. Don't deny it!"

"After all the years of watching you deal with Robin so effortlessly, I can't help but be amused."

"Effortless? Nine months of pregnancy wasn't enough. I'll have you know that your child put me through countless hours of frustration and exasperation."

"She's my child again I see," Robert said. "You handled Robin beautifully. You were patient and loving and-"

"I coped by treating her nearly the same as I would treat you. It usually worked. Thank god for small mercies," Anna said. "But Andrew is so complicated. I don't know what to think sometimes. Nothing is ever simple with him. And ... and he's always on. I swear even when he's sleeping he must be sleep-working! Each time I look at him I literally see the wheels turning in his head. I don't know whether to be fascinated or terrified of his next brilliant idea. Does the boy never stay still?"

Robert lost it. He burst out laughing in deep guffaws from his gut.

"Fine. Just fine," said Anna. "Don't give me any advice. Just let me bumble along figuring him out on my own."

"It's just ... just ..." Robert did his best to stop laughing. "He's too much like you."

"Me?! You are so wrong."

Robert crossed his arms over his chest. "Would you describe our son as a calming and restful sort of person?"

"Only in his sleep and I have doubts about that."

"Would you say that he's predictable?"

"Like the weather."

"Would you say that Andrew was dependent or lacking in passion?"

"Hardly. I shudder to think of what his future spouse will have to deal with. He can be so headstrong."

"You're no walk in the park, luv," said Robert. "He's too much like you, admit it."

Knowing he was right but unwilling to let him know it, Anna looked at him crossly. "You're not helping, Robert."

"I know what will help. A distraction." Robert steered Anna towards the truck designated for artwork, jewelry and fine arts.

He and Anna sorted through some open boxes. Anna was slack-jawed as she flipped through a dozen canvases encased in see through plastic that were well-packed inside a wooden crate.

“Does he know how priceless some of these things are?” Anna said. "Look at this sketch by Bernini. At auction, this would be ... I guarantee that there would a fight among museums for this."

Robert shrugged his shoulders. “Andrew buys what he likes. But he has your eye for expensive things and he gravitates towards that."

He and Anna began to root through more boxes and shrouded items in the truck.

* * *

“Underground vaults?” asked Robin watching her parents disappear into a truck.

“C and C is nearly done. The vaults are the last bits to be completed,” said Andrew.

“I repeat again what vaults and what is C and C?”

“Patrick, want to come along?” Andrew took Robin by the arm and led her towards the Barn. “Command and Control. It’s under the Barn.” Andrew pointed to the Barn’s foundation. We raised the old barn by a foot and strengthened the foundation with steel beams. Then excavated underneath to create some rooms down there.”

Andrew led them inside to one of the bookshelves. At his touch, the shelf slid sideways revealing a set of stairs that led down into a brightly lighted area.

“No elevator?” asked Patrick.

“Stairs are more reliable,” said Andrew.

They descended into a spacious room equipped like the bridge of the starship Enterprise. One wall was lined with monitors placed in columns. Different parts of the farm were displayed. Sanford Simms, an older man with a graying beard and bald pate, had monitor duty. Beside the monitors was an glass enclosed cabinet filled with rack-mounted servers. On the other side were three desks whereupon sat the sleekest monitors and keyboards they had ever seen. Beyond the desks, there was a hint of an alcove with a galley kitchen inside.

Andrew gave them a quick tour. “This is the monitor area. From here we can see every part of the farm. This is also our communications hub. Satellite uplinks and downlinks for voice and data are all controlled here.” Andrew placed a proprietary hand on one of the sleek monitors. “We also do R and D for DigiMaze products. These displays are all in one PCs. You dock it when you’re at this desk or you can remove it and bring it with you.” Andrew demonstrated by pulling off one of the monitors. “Each one is a fully equipped, touch-sensitive laptop with satellite, 3G and wireless connectivity."

"There would be really useful at the hospital. Updating and finding patient charts would be a breeze."

"I only have three units for now, Patrick. I’m not entirely happy with them yet.” said Andrew. "Hospital? That's one user scenario I hadn't thought of."

Andrew took them through a door that led to a small hallway with several doors. “The room on the far end is my private office.” He opened the middle door. “This room is a conference or study area. Many of the staff attend correspondence courses and they like to study in here. This room can also double as a bunk room as needed. The last room there is a private bedroom. The last room is the armory.”

He next took them to the single door between the monitor area and the desks. “This room is off limits to everyone except key personnel.” Once Andrew swung the door open, it became clear that appearances were deceiving. From the monitor room the door had looked ordinary. But now they could see that it was a steel door several inches thick and it swung on eight hinges not two.

Andrew flicked on the lights and they stepped inside an antechamber whose walls were lined with tile from floor to ceiling. The tile was polished stone. On the walls were built in cubby holes and clothes hooks. Two small benches leaned against the wall. Andrew reached into a cubby and removed some plastic footies. He handed them to his guests.

“Put these over your shoes. You’ll want to keep your coats on.” He pulled out a blanket. “Wrap Emma in this.”

Andrew opened the only other door in the room which led to another flight of stairs going down. The lower they descended the more the impression of a hermetically sealed environment became reality. The air smelled differently - cool, dry and antiseptic. The walls were lined with a spongy material used to dampen sound. On the last steps they shivered. A temperature monitor said ’55F’.

It was a small rectangular room. The blue walls seemed to glow with a soft light. The opposite wall was divided into three stalls. One stall was occupied by a tall machine that didn’t look like anything Robin or Patrick had ever seen. The machine was enclosed floor to ceiling in glass that like the walls were painted blue and glowed slightly. On the other side of the room was a long bench and a desk with several monitors and keyboards. A leather sofa and a dog bed lay next to the desk.

“This is YOUR secret room, isn’t it, Andrew?” asked Robin.

“You’ve found me out,” laughed Andrew. “This is not the most comfortable room on the farm but it is the most secure room. I'm not finished kitting it out for general comfort though. If ... if Emma is required to be truly kept safe, she’ll be taken here. The only ones who have access to this room are our parents, Jacques and myself. I’ll be coding the palm locks to recognize yours and Patrick’s hand prints.” Andrew pointed to an antechamber. “There’s a bathroom there and enough supplies to last three weeks. I’ve included a ration of your drug cocktail, Robin, plus baby formula, diapers, medicines and, of course, dog food. And to the left are the storage vaults. They can double as sleeping quarters if need be.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” said Robin.

“It’s better to be as prepared as we can be. We cannot take half measures with our own safety.”

Patrick had made a circuit of the room while Andrew and Robin talked. He touched the blue walls which he discovered weren’t really walls. They were panes of glass with a blue liquid inside. The liquid had flecks for gold in it.

“What’s the blue stuff?” asked Patrick. “It’s cold as ice but without the condensation.”

“Secret formula. Something I made up. It’s responsible for the temperature in this room.”

“The server here is nearly silent. As big as it is, it should be noisy but I don’t even hear a fan,” said Robin.

“It doesn’t have one,” said Andrew simply.

“More inventions?”

“Yes.”

“And we’re to pretend no knowledge of this room at all?” asked Robin.

“Yes,” Andrew repeated. “I wanted to show it to you so that you would know how seriously we’re taking Emma’s safety. This vault area has its own source of power, ventilation, filtration, plumbing and so forth.”

“The only thing missing is entertainment,” said Patrick.

“The monitors there get over five hundred channels. The servers have close to three thousand movies for on demand viewing.” A chime sounded and they looked up by habit. Andrew looked at his watch. “It’s eight thirty. That should be Uncle Mac and Dianara.”

* * *

Outside, Anna and Robert greeted Captain Samantha Welles with deep smiles and big hugs as she exited Mac's car.

“Look at you a captain no less,” beamed Robert. “I remember the day you started with Frisco.”

“You two look great!” said Sam. “I was under orders to sleep last night but I couldn’t. What’s going on?”

“Anything and everything. Come into the house and we’ll fill you in,” said Anna. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”


	3. ELQ on the Edge

January 3, 2009, ELQ Corporate Headquarters 8:30 AM

Tracy reviewed the stack of spreadsheets and documents in front of her for the third time in the last hour. Her conclusions had not changed. She stood up and stretched. For a few minutes she stood looking out at the expansive view of the city that her office window offered.

Her secretary Marian entered. “Mrs. Quartermaine, all the board members have agreed to reschedule today’s meeting per your request. The next meeting will be held after the Pavilion fundraiser. I’m awaiting their schedules for a final date.”

“Thank you, Marian. Has my father arrived? And Monica?”

“Yes. Mr. Quartermaine and Dr. Quartermaine are in his office right now.”

“I ... I’ll be in his office. Private meeting. Hold my calls.”

Marian closed the door behind her. Tracy gathered the paperwork on her desk into a neat stack and marched out and into her father’s office. She closed the door of his office and announced without preamble. “ELQ is no longer under our control.”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Fortunately, Monica’s here.”

Tracy laid her stack of papers on Edward’s desk. “These are six months worth of stock valuations, common and preferred stock, and stock ownership assignments. I’ve analyzed them three different ways and I get the same conclusion, Daddy. ELQ preferred stock is being diluted more and more each month.”

“Which in English means?” asked Monica.

“Preferred shares are changing hands, bought and sold, right under our noses. I’ll give you one guess who?”

“Corinthos,” said Edward.

“He’s selling in small quantities maybe 25 to 75 per week. That’s how it’s going under the radar.”

“Wait, that’s against the bylaws. Selling shares without notifying all other directors.”

“Yes, it is. Are you volunteering to set Sonny straight on that rule? The man has the finesse and subtlety of an anvil hurtling down a cliff.”

“Who are the buyers?” asked Edward.

“An investment holding company called Dopp Holdings. I haven’t been able to find any information on them.” said Tracy. “And he’s selling at 25 percent of market value.”

“What?!” cried Edward. “How can he call himself a businessman?”

“Let’s calm down. Tracy, you said that we were losing control, what did you mean exactly?” asked Monica.

“Sonny is selling Jason’s shares.” Tracy leaned on the corner of Edward’s desk and waited for the explosion.”

“Oh, my lord!” exclaimed Edward holding his head in one hand.

“He can’t!” said Monica. “That’s supposed to be kept in trust for ... for Jason’s heirs.”

“Well, he's doing it whether he realizes what it means or not. He’s pulling and selling shares previously assigned to Jason,” said Tracy. “If he succeeds in selling the majority of that stock, we could lose up to three percent in ownership of ELQ. That would then tip us under the fifty-two percent family majority even accounting for Ned’s shares.”

“I won’t have it!” said Edward. “Corinthos has no moral right to those shares!”

“We have to stop Sonny from selling further shares or buy them back from this holding company somehow,” said Monica.

Edward took out his cell phone. “Young Andrew was correct. Interesting that he knew before we did.”

“Yes, Daddy, very interesting. His comment on diluted ownership motivated me to take a look.”

“Who’s Andrew?” asked Monica.

Edward and Tracy looked at each other. Tracy shrugged her shoulders.

“We had best tell you now,” said Edward. “Andrew Scorpio is Anna and Robert’s son.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Apparently, Robert raised him while they were ... missing,” said Tracy.

“A fine, intelligent upstanding young man. Gives one hope for the next generation,” said Edward looking through his contact list.

“Another Scorpio? Is he anything like Robin?” asked Monica.

“He has a head for business, polite and brutally forthright,” said Tracy.

"Bluntness must run in that family," Monica said.

“Anna would like to keep his identity a secret for the most part until the fundraiser where they plan on introducing him publicly.”

“What? If he’s theirs why wait?”

“Why does Robert fake his death on a regular basis?” asked Tracy with a hint of sarcasm.

“It’s part of the plan whatever it is,” concluded Monica with a grin.

Edward began to speak on the phone. “Anna, good morning. I need to speak with Andrew on some business analysis I’d like to have his advice on." He listened then said, "Yes, yes that would be fine. You did? I’ll be sure to tell her. See you then.”

Edward shut his phone off. “They are on their way into town. We’re meeting at the Majestic within the hour. Care to come along, Monica?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” answered Dr. Quartermaine.

“One more thing. Anna has just confirmed that Katherine Delafield has agreed to perform at Alan’s fundraiser.”

Monica clapped her hands together. “Oh my goodness! That changes a lot of things.”

“Brook-Lyn and Katherine together. We should print more tickets,” said Tracy. “We’ll need a bigger venue.”

 

* * *

The Majestic Theater 9 AM

The tall glass and brass doors shone brightly in the winter sun. The twin box offices looked ready for business. Every bulb and fixture sparkled without a speck of dust. Inside, memorabilia of a forgotten age dotted the walls from vintage movie posters to candid photos of the stars who had visited the theater in the distant past. The parquet wood floor and twelve foot high ceiling gave the space both warmth and grandeur.

The long bar of aged mahogany that could easily have accommodated twenty customers at a time lined one wall. If the counter was of a speakeasy vintage then the shelving behind it was Art Deco inspired. The vintage bottles with their contents intact were displayed much like they would have been in the theater’s heyday. On the lower shelves were the modern and non-alcoholic drinks that were served. On the side shelves, crystal glassware of every imaginable size and type glittered.

For now it was being used as the main food court for the staff and construction workers. Ten small tables were arranged around it. Behind the bar, Carl Zekker arranged the baskets of breads, the containers of jams and spreads and the tray of scones. Pots of coffee were boiling on the other end of the bar alongside a tray of coffee mugs. He often caught himself wistfully wishing the bar was his. It was that gorgeous.

Sean and a spry Asian man of late middle age sauntered to the bar. “Hey, barman, wake up!”

Carl grinned. “Morning, Sean.”

“Carl, do you know Suki Kwon of Green Pearl Imports?” Sean clapped the shoulder of the other man. “This guy saved my life.”

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” Carl extended a hand to Suki. “Carl Zekker, Zekkers Bakery, good to meet you.”

“Give it here, man.” Suki shook Carl’s hand enthusiastically. “This place is rad, Sean. Just rad.”

Carl blinked perplexed by what he was hearing. Was this English, he thought.

“Hard to believe it’s been sitting here all this time,” said Sean. “We really think this megaplex is going to take off. Finding this was like good karma.”

“It’s live and talking,” said Suki. “The location is prime. The space is kicking. Old school dance marathons, Rocky Horror nights, classic movie nights on Cinemascope, theme nights, movie openings or glam parties. The sky’s the limit.”

“Tiffany and Belle have LOTS of ideas. Right now they’re putting the radio station to rights but this place has Tif rocking and grooving as Olin would say. Tif hasn’t been this excited in years!” gushed Sean.

“I can believe that,” said Suki.

Poor Carl was still trying to decipher Suki’s first sentences. “Uh, yeah, it’s wonderful.”

“Has Tif hit either you for a show sponsorship?” Sean looked at the two men.

“I told her I’d sponsor anything as long as it was hip and fun.”

“Tif said something about having Zekkers be the main sponsor for a soap. I don’t know what that means.”

Sean chuckled. “That’s all right, Carl. Let’s leave it in Tiffany’s capable hands.”

 

* * *

Upstairs in the radio station, Tiffany and Belle compared notes. The occasional thump and muffled curse came from the engineer’s room where a contractor who specialized in vintage radio equipment was testing the gear and making some Andrew-inspired modifications. The reception area had been turned into a casual lounge. The writers room was now a high tech shared office. The two studios were being left as is for the most part. The break room was marked undecided. For now it would remain the break room with a small refrigerator, a microwave and a coffee pot plus a table for four and chairs.

Tiffany looked around the room. “I don’t know. The decor is so quaint.”

“Mama, we’ve changed the carpeting. Can we change the drapes now? It’s ratty on the corners.”

“It adds character.”

“And the scent of mothballs in the air.”

“True. All right. If you can find drapes that are close to what’s already there and they're within budget go ahead,” said Tiffany. “Are we still on budget?”

“Yes. We got a good deal on the carpeting and the plaster work,” said Belle. “We’ll send most of the furniture to be reupholstered and that will be better than buying new.”

“Let us turn our attention to programming.” Tiffany smiled with relish. “You know, sugar plum, this, all this, takes me back to my roots. My first gig out of college was as a news announcer at some rinky-dink radio station back home. I thought I was such a big deal then with my journalism degree and my pageant titles.”

“You’re still the bomb, Mama,” said Belle with a smile.

“You’re going to be bigger than I ever was. You’ll see. You got it in here and here.” Tiffany touched her daughter’s forehead and heart. “Don’t you let anyone or anything stop you from getting to your dream whatever it is. And, if you find a good man, like your daddy, don’t let him go either. You hear?”

 

* * *

General Hospital 9:30 AM

Bobbie led Robin through the empty rooms where Robin’s future lab was to be. Volunteers hustled here and there cleaning and moving equipment around.

“What do you think? Enough room?” asked Bobbie.

“Ah, yeah. I wasn’t expecting all this.” Robin had just finished looking over her private office, a recovery room, a secure clean lab and a general all purpose lab. She gawked at the still boxed lab equipment sitting on counters. They were all top of the line.

“They went all out,” said Bobbie with a smile. “But they should. This is a really big deal, Robin. You can help so many people.”

“I haven’t done anything yet. I don’t know if I can. It’s all experimental.”

“If no one tried anything, medicine would still be in the dark ages.”

“When can I start in here?” asked Robin.

“Your office is available now. The volunteers are doing a great job with the lab. That will be ready tomorrow. Monica and I will help you screen the applications for your lab technicians. What else?”

Robin looked down on the list displayed on her iPhone. “I have to start stocking inventory - chemicals, meds, lab stuff. I have to dig up my old notes from Paris.”

Bobbie eyed the phone. “Nice phone. I didn’t know they came in colors.”

“Um, this is a custom phone. You can get one at the DigiMaze store when it opens.”

“Paging Doctor Scorpio ... paging Doctor Robin Scorpio Drake ...” said a voice at the door.

“Hi, honey,” said Robin to Patrick. “Hi, Matt.”

In the far corner, Maria Ormez was cleaning shelving. Her ears perked up at the mention of the name Robin Scorpio. Maria had volunteered to help in the lab cleanup to get away from the apartment and Franjo. What a piece of good luck! She studied Robin out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey, just came over to see the new digs,” said Patrick.

“A new lab and a new home,” said Matt. “I’m so jealous. That TV room, the game room. Shangri La!”

Patrick smirked. “You can come visit.”

“I’ll do that,” said Matt. “I’m off to do rounds. Later.”

“You’re moving out of the apartment?” asked Bobbie just as Matt was leaving.

“The apartment is really getting small and with Emma we just need more room,” said Robin.

“So where is this paradise?”

“At Mom and Dad’s new place on Sunhill Road,” said Patrick.

“Anna was talking about that at Christmas dinner. She’s finished remodeling? Are visitors allowed?”

“It’s like a resort. You should come over and see it,” said Patrick.

Robin cleared her throat. “Well, Mom still has the barn to get set up. You know how messy renovations can be, Bobbie. Maybe, Mom will have a housewarming soon.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” Bobbie looked at her watch. “I’ve got an appointment to get to. I’ll talk to you soon.” Bobbie turned and left.

“You lied,” said Patrick.

“I improvised. There’s a difference,” said Robin. “Visitors can’t just pop over, Patrick. Even relatives and close friends.”

"The place is locked tighter than Fort Knox."

Robin looked around. She sensed that she was being watched. Patrick was such an open book to the world. She realized she would have to teach Patrick to behave more circumspectly. Too much openness, especially in public, could be dangerous. She said in a flirtatious tone, “Let’s take this to MY new office shall we? There are a number of things I want to discuss with you and ONLY you.”

Maria watched the couple leave. She wondered if they spoke of the same place as where the failed assignment had occurred. That too had been on Sunhill Road. She had not noticed too many residences on that road.

Maria wondered too why a doctor would be a target. She could understand political leaders or businessmen but why a doctor and her family? Scorpio was an unusual name. She decided to stop by the library and do some research.

 

* * *

The Majestic Theater 10 AM

The Quartermaines strolled into the Majestic’s lobby after navigating the serpentine construction zone in the front square. Once inside, the noise of jackhammers pounding, cement trucks pouring cement and the general din of three ongoing construction projects in a small space faded away. They were transported back to a bygone era when a night at the theater was a rare and special treat. Anna, Tiffany and Belle came forward to greet them. On the opposite end of the long foyer, Maxie guided a cameraman taking footage of the theater.

“I do believe you’ve got half the construction crews in Port Charles working outside and on a Saturday,” said Tracy to Anna. “How did you manage that without a dozen unions screaming at you?”

“Apparently, Andrew does not let anything as trivial as a weekend or a union get in the way of his project plan,” said Anna laughing. “Actually, all of them out there are on their own time not union time. Robin called Rowdy Harris for help. He spread the word that we were hiring per diem over the weekend. We supply the equipment and materials and he got us the labor.”

“Talk about lifting the local economy!” said Monica.

"The unions are not too happy. But there's nothing they can do. People need and want to work."

“This ... this is amazing! I thought the plans were ambitious but so much has been done. I can’t believe it,” said Edward who hadn’t stopped looking at everything since he had come in.

"Once we took the covers off everything we all decided that the restoration had to be as close to the original as we could manage," said Anna. "There are nearly 24/7 shifts ongoing."

“Goodness, over a hundred people showed up yesterday. People need to pay bills and we want to help as many as we can. Our foremen are running themselves ragged trying to track all the crews.” Tiffany introduced Belle to the Quartermaines. “Edward, Tracy, Monica, this is my daughter Annabelle or Belle for short. Belle, this is Mr. Edward Quartermaine, Mrs. Tracy Quartermaine Spencer and Dr. Monica Quartermaine.”

The Quartermaines gushed over Belle.

Monica looked perplexed but happy. “Honestly, you and Anna come back to town with new children in tow like it was an everyday event.”

“We do like to make an entrance,” said Tiffany.

“Which parent do you take up after, child?” asked Edward.

“It depends on my mood, Mr. Quartermaine,” said Belle. “Uncle Robert says I’m the best mix of Irish blarney and Southern charm.”

Edward laughed. “We’re going to have to keep a close eye on you. I can tell.”

A rumbling boom was heard followed by a slight rolling of the floor beneath them.

Tiffany looked at Belle. “Was that the second or third charge?”

“Third. The second one didn’t have enough explosive power,” said Belle.

The walkie talkie hanging on Anna’s belt squawked. Andrew's deadpan delivery sounded out of the speaker, “And on the third attempt, we have a tunnel.”

Anna said into her unit, “Andrew, the Quartermaines are here. Come up, please.”

“Copy. Meet me at the stage,” came Andrew’s reply.

“There WAS a tunnel in the cellar? Just like Lila thought!” exclaimed Edward.

“The entrance on this end was intentionally collapsed but ground penetrating radar detected a series of tunnels beyond it,” said Anna.

“Where do the tunnels go?” asked Tracy.

“That’s where our catacomb expert comes in. Do you know Suki Kwon?” asked Anna.

“He’s the president of the Asian Commerce Commission,” said Edward. “Good man.”

“We transport his cargo on a regular basis,” supplied Tracy.

“Suki believes it leads to the same tunnel system that runs under large parts of the city,” explained Anna.

“Hmm, and the federalists closed down the tunnel prior to my purchasing the place. Interesting,” Edward mused.

“If you think the outside looks good, let's go inside,” said Tiffany invitingly. She led the party down the wide center aisle.

It was not quite wall to wall people but close enough. Two crews were going row by row inspecting and repairing each seat. Every theater box was being cleaned and repaired by a crew each. Another set of people were adjusting the lighting and sound. Yet another set was inspecting the giant pure white Cinemascope screen for nicks and blemishes. Above them, as Sean had surmised earlier, hung three beautiful antique chandeliers all cleaned and repaired to as new condition.

“Wow!” said Monica.

“This is EXACTLY as I remember it. Exactly,” said Edward.

“THIS is what a theater experience is supposed to be!” said an impressed Tracy.

Andrew appeared in the orchestra pit. He came up and greeted his guests. “Let’s go somewhere quieter shall we.” He led them to the cavernous backstage area then to an empty green room.

“You’ve done a wonderful job here, my boy,” gushed Edward to Andrew.

“Everyone had a hand in this, sir,” replied Andrew. “What did you wish to see me about?”

Tracy explained her findings succinctly. She ended her explanation by saying. “I’ve postponed today’s board meeting. I’m curious as to how you knew we were so diluted and if you could find information on a company called Dopp Holdings.”

“Hmm, D-O-P-P?” Andrew fiddled with his phone.

“Yes.”

Andrew peered at his readout. “Dopp Holdings is technically a hedge fund. It’s based in New York. It looks like they do acquire the shares from a Corinthos Company and put the shares for public sale for one hour. As soon as the one hour period is over, they buy the shares themselves.”

“Why not buy it outright? Why put it on public sale?”

“Perhaps regulatory rules prohibit a straightforward purchase. I hold too little familiarity with the rules to even hazard a guess.” said Andrew pressing some additional keys. “Wait. It looks like the shares are not bought by the company for itself but on behalf of another customer.” He showed the display to his mother who pursed her lips.

“It’s bad news. I KNEW it!” Tracy sighed. “Give it to us straight up.”

Andrew showed the display to Tracy. “The buyer is one Arielle Ashton.”

Tracy growled. “That .... that ... two-faced ... when I get through with her .... she’s going to wish she was dead!”

“That ingrate Ashton!” said Edward. “After all we’ve done for him.”

“Maybe Larry doesn’t know,” said Monica.

“Oh, he knows!” said Tracy with dead certainty. “He would know what those family shares mean. That weasel knows! He HAS to know!”

“It’s THEM, again, isn’t it?” asked Edward looking at Anna. “The Cartel. They want ELQ no matter how they get it. This is proof.”

“Yes, Edward. We know there were other members elsewhere around the globe. Someone is pulling the strings we just don’t know who or why. Not yet,” answered Anna.

“It wasn’t enough to kill me in a plane crash. Now, they want to do it again but slowly,” groused Edward.

“What do we do?” asked Monica. “I know we don’t have the reserves to buy stock back.”

Tracy supplied, “We’re overextended in the Far East until the next quarter. Capital expense is on purchasing two new tankers not stock buybacks. The directors would get suspicious. Sonny won’t say a word. Somehow the family will be blamed as we always are.”

“For whatever reason, this seller needs funds. Why not offer him a straight buyback of all his shares at a price slightly higher than what he is selling it for?” asked Andrew.

“Sonny Corinthos holds the shares. We buy it and the funds goes back into organized crime,” said Tracy.

“Deals with the devil aren’t pretty,” said Tiffany.

“I have a solution that may work," Tracy said. "An outside investment group, if one can be found, to put a proposal by the board to purchase a large bulk of shares. It must be an offer so attractive that the Board would agree to a further dilution of the value of each share in order to get the new group on board.”

“That which makes us weaker will make us stronger?” asked Monica.

“Yes. By increasing the total pool of shares, family shares lose some of their value. If Sonny needs the money, he’ll jump on selling his shares to this new group,” said Tracy. “We need to stop the sale of the shares on the open market.”

“Um, we’re talking in the neighborhood of two million dollars,” said Monica. “What company would invest that much in these tough times? What bank would lend them money to make such a purchase?”

“A company that doesn’t need to borrow money,” said Andrew quietly. “Allow me to talk to some people, perhaps, we can help.”

 

“On the understanding that the Quartermaines will make good on repurchasing the shares in the future,” said Tracy.

“Understood,” said Andrew. “Ms. Quartermaine, I shall let you know our decision by Monday morning.”

“Fair enough.” Tracy and Andrew shook hands solemnly.

 

* * *

Monica paced the stage from front to back. Anna watched her amused. She had felt overawed herself the first time the chandeliers had been fully lit and the drop cloths removed from the seats. It made for an impressive view from the stage outwards to the audience.

“Anna, I have to thank you for convincing Katherine to come and play at the fundraiser,” said Monica. “Raising funds in this economy has been so tough.”

"Katherine was more than happy to help," Anna said. "She feels she owes the hospital for the treatment of her aunt Iona.“

"That may be but it's still such an imposition. She doesn't do concerts anymore. The fact that you asked her is enormously important to me."

"What was important was what Alan did for Robin. Robert and I can never repay that, ever,” said Anna. “And you, Tony, Bobbie, you were there for our little girl when we couldn’t be. There’s no bottom to our gratitude.”

“We love her as if she were our own you know." Monica sighed. "When Robin and Jason were together, Alan and I prayed and prayed that they would stay with each other. She gave him a measure of peace I think. In the beginning, he was willing to give up his mob involvement for her. How I wish things had turned out differently.”

“Speaking from experience, the mob is ... hard on relationships. It can test love to its absolute limits. It takes honorable people, backs them into a corner and ... and they’re forced to make difficult choices that make a mockery of their honor and their love. Damned whichever way they choose to go.”

“Jason tells me that he’s in too deep and can’t get out now. Is there no way out? I can't believe that there isn't.”

“There are ways out but you have to ... to be willing to take the exit whatever that may be. It could be that he turns evidence and goes into the ... the witness protection program.” Anna swallowed. “Like Duke did. He ... Jason can never come back to see you. He shouldn't. It would be a sacrifice you both have to make. Or, he can quit and try to live a normal life, but there’s always the siren call of the mob in his ear. And, he is after all this time a known enforcer. He has enemies.”

“I just don’t understand the lure. Am I naive, Anna, that I can’t see why he’s so drawn to it?” Frustration was etched on Monica’s face. “Does he enjoy the violence? I can’t believe he does. Is it the money? That can’t be it either. Is it the thrill of living on the edge? Is that it?”

“That adrenaline rush can be addictive. Take it from someone who knows. But that sort of thing is temporary and you can live without it. It doesn’t take the place of anything else in your life,” said Anna. “What keeps them in is the people. From what Robin has told me about Jason, he values his friendship with Sonny. In fact, would do anything for him. That personal commitment is what keeps him in. It’s a sort of honor I suppose.”

“Jason is not responsible for Sonny Corinthos,” said Monica harshly. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “It’s Sonny that pulled him into that life.”

“Jason sees Sonny as the one who gave him a ... a lifeline when he needed it most. That bond is ... I don’t know if anything can ever break that.” Anna pulled her friend into an embrace. “I’m sorry, Monica. I know how much it hurts. I know.”

 

* * *

As the Quartermaines were seeing solutions to their dilemma, Mac, Dianara, Sam and Sean conferred with Andre Garnier in the writers room.

Andre spoke from the monitor screen. “We’ve confirmed that Alberto Rosales has agreed to the arms deal and the ship is due to arrive on the sixth. We don’t know exactly when the sale is to be made.”

“We can assume it will be anytime from the seventh onward,” said Sean. “Grant, do you have any leads on who Rosales’ contact is in Port Charles?”

“No.”

“It has to be one of Charlie’s friends, yeah? According to Felicia, she heard Gastineau speak about two projects,” said Mac. “The arms deal is one and the conference in New York is another. What else could it be?”

“I would be more comfortable if we knew for sure that that was true,” said Sean. “We’re making assumptions on second hand knowledge that hasn’t really been proven.”

“And our assumptions could be wrong,” said Dianara. “Very wrong.”

“I’ll tell my guys to make the rounds of their informers. Maybe we’ll pick up something,” said Mac. “Anna gave me a list of names that she was told worked for Alcazar. We’ll start tracing them, see where they are now. Might get lucky.”

“I’m on the fingerprints and DNA results from the apartment,” said Sam.

“I wish we knew where Gastineau was having his meeting and when,” said Dianara.

“Nothing can be that easy,” said Sam.

“Where are Robert and Jacques?” asked Andre.

“Per Anna, Robert and Jacques went off on a mission this morning. Haven’t seen them all day,” said Sean. “One piece of new news for you. Alex Marick has been informed of Charlotte Devane’s unlikely resurrection. Alex is adamant about physically checking for herself that Charlotte has flown the penitentiary.”

 

* * *

An hour later, Tracy sat in the theater looking at the stage, the boxes and the seats. She had a bright idea. She rose and went off to find Anna. Tracy had to cross the square to the DigiMaze store location to find Anna, Edward, Monica and Andrew. The insides of the building had been gutted leaving only the shell of the exterior and the foundation walls. The layout of all the floors had been changed to something more modern.

“Monica, why not move the fundraiser from the hospital to the theater? Brook- Lyn and Katherine need to have the right stage don’t they?” asked Tracy.

“The hospital auditorium is going to be cramped enough. You’re right, Tracy,” agreed Monica. “Well, Anna, Andrew, can we lease the theater for the fundraiser on the eighth?”

Mother and son looked at each other. Andrew said, “I don’t see why not. The major work will all be done by then. No lease required.”

“We can make it the Majestic’s preview opening,” said Anna.

“Fantastic!” said Tracy.

“Now who’s going to tell Tiffany?” asked Anna.

“Well, you would, Mother,” said Andrew.

“I don’t think so. I know Tiffany will go overboard and I won’t be able to stop her.”

“She and Belle's extravagance knows no bounds that I am aware of,” said Andrew. “I am shocked they’re still on budget.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen Tiffany go all out, yet. But it sounds like you will. Do tell her today,” said Anna sweetly.

“Then what?”

“Stand back.”


	4. The Best Against the Best

Port Charles Library 5:45 PM

Maria Ormez squinted at the microfilm reader displaying a long ago article from the Port Charles Chronicles. Finding references to Scorpio was far too easy. She had begun her research with the most current papers and now she read in rapt attention a long article by Tiffany Hill about the fall of Nicholas Van Buren aka Domino at the hands of Robert Scorpio and his associates.

“Ex-commissioner, ex-WSB,” she muttered. “Two of them. And I thought this was going to be easy.”

She looked down on the notepad. She had written down Robert Scorpio with a line to Anna Devane Scorpio and another line to Mac Scorpio. Below that she wrote Robin Scorpio then Patrick Drake. Below that she had written Emma Drake. Both Robin and Emma’s names were circled.

Maria removed the microfiche and inserted another one dated 1991-1992. The more she discovered about the Scorpios the more uneasy she felt. Her own mission became clearer, too. It was no accident that Franjo had been sent here. He was the organization’s most loyal and accomplished operative. More importantly, he had never failed.

"The best to go up against the best," muttered Maria.

* * *

The South Docks 6:45 PM

Franjo “Frank” Curic unlocked the series of padlocks on the warehouse door. He arranged some empty crates into seats and a table.

“Franjo, you are well?” asked Etienne entering the warehouse.

“Well enough,” said Franjo curtly. He gestured towards a seat. He lit a cigarette.

Etienne noticed the cigarette. “Nerves, Franjo, that’s not like you.”

“I don’t like this job,” said Franjo. “Anything about Charlie?”

“The Israelis have him. What happened?”

“He and Maria saw a recon job posted online. Saw it as easy money. It wasn’t. Got caught.” Franjo blew out a trail of smoke.

“A job here in quiet town USA?” scoffed Etienne.

“The place had more security than they were told. Lack of information killed the job. That’s all.”

“Do you want Maria replaced?”

“No. She’s learned a valuable lesson the hard way. Maria will do what’s necessary,” said Franjo. “Get on with it.”

Etienne withdrew from his pocket a small vial and a brown envelope. “Discard the vial I gave to you previously. This vial has a new formulation of Compound X. It is now fully odorless, colorless and tasteless. You are to introduce Compound X to the mother then take the child.”

“Is it fatal?” Franjo took the vial and scrutinized it. Filled with a white powder, the vial fit neatly into his palm. It was marked by hand with the letters ‘CX2.’ “How much of a dose?”

“Not fatal. It increases potency and effect the more of the compound you use. Remember, your commands must be clearly said. Anyone taking that compound will do whatever you want them to until the compound leaves the bloodstream,” explained Etienne. "We can even go so far as to influence their general outlook and biases long after the compound left their system."

“What do we do with the child? I will not harm a child,” said Franjo.

“Deliver the child to me. No harm will come to it,” assured Etienne.

“The child will be returned to the parents?”

“That is up to our employer,” said Etienne. He noticed the stubborn cast of Franjo’s face. Etienne had known Franjo for years. He was one of their best operatives but he had scruples. “It’s just a job, Franjo. No different than the hundreds you’ve done before. I promise you the child will be unharmed.”

Franjo nodded. “When do you want the child?”

“As soon as you can. Contact me when you have it,” said Etienne. “Now, the second job.” He slid the brown envelope towards Franjo.

“Arms and equipment will be on hand this coming week. The conference is set for February 2. Our operation is to begin on the 5th. By the end of the week, security will have gotten lax. Our people will be in place as discussed.”

Franjo studied the pictures intently. “Maldonado is still the primary target?”

“Yes. His assassination is mandatory,” said Etienne. “He will serve as a very public example.”

“How will the gear be provided to me?”

“I will contact you when it’s ready. Most likely, the gear will be in this warehouse for your pick up.”

“Do you need help during the initial delivery?” asked Franjo. “This is not our territory. I dislike relying so much of the plan on others.”

“Thank you for your concern, Franjo. Our Alcazar contact assures me that he has things in hand,” said Etienne. “Now, are you clear on your missions?”

“First mission is to use the vial and take the child. Second mission is to take care of Claudio Maldonado and take specific delegates hostage,” said Franjo. “And what about the second part of the hostage operation?”

“The second team will take care of them. Don’t worry about it. Take care of Maldonado and you’re done,” said Etienne smoothly. “You haven’t changed your mind about retiring?”

Franjo shook his head. “I’m tired. Tired men make mistakes. I just want to start a life somewhere and rest.”

Etienne clapped a hand on Franjo’s shoulder. “And so you will. I haven’t forgotten your years of loyalty.”

“It’s time for something new,” said Franjo quietly.

“Start a family again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll think about all that after ... the missions.” Franjo stubbed out the cigarette against the ground. “Is there anything else?”

“No.” Etienne extended his hand. “Good hunting, my friend.”

* * *

Villa Scorpio 11 PM

Robert entered their bedroom trying to be quiet and failing. Anna woke up from her nap. He held out his arms toward her. Anna knelt on their bed and helped him remove his sweater. Free of the sweater, Robert leaned into her for a lingering kiss.

“Well, am I going to get the full story now?” asked Anna pulling away.

“Ask Jacques tomorrow, team leader,” said Robert unbuttoning his shirt. “What a day I've had!”

A sly grin formed on Anna’s lip. “It’s not the team leader asking. This is not an official inquiry.”

"What kind of inquiry is it then?"

Anna's fingers made quick work of his belt buckle. "An entirely selfish one and very, very personal."

“I’m sworn to secrecy, luv,” said Robert slipping his shirt off. “What have you been up to?”

Still kneeling on the bed facing Robert, Anna untied her cream and gold dressing gown. “Oh, this and that. Here’s a bit of ... news. The fundraiser will be held at the Majestic.”

The untying motion had Robert’s full attention. “What fundraiser?”

“The one for the pediatric pavilion.” Anna held his gaze as her hands traveled down the lapel and edges of her robe. A hint of deep green peeked out from the opening. Her eyes sparked with the light of challenge and more than a little lust.

“Uh, huh,” was all Robert could manage to say even as he hastened to remove the rest of his clothing. “I forgot about that. There are more important things to think about.”

“Let me give you an update. The Quartermaines love what’s been done to the theater." A slight shrug let slip the left side of her gown exposing her bared shoulder. "And the tunnel, Robert, it does lead to the catacombs. Giles and Suki will be mapping it all tomorrow.” The right side of her gown slid off.

"Yeah, good, right." His eyes skimmed over bare shoulders.

“Anything else you want to ask me?” asked Anna through half-closed eyes. Her gown draped enticingly to her knees clinging to the vee of her legs. Her nightgown underneath the robe clung to every feminine curve.

Robert used two fingers to trace a path from her jawline, down her neck and lower still along the deep decolletage of her nightgown. "How is it possible for anyone to get more and more seductive as the years pass?"

"Am I the one doing the seducing?" Anna trembled. “I didn’t realize it was so cold. Put another log in the fire will you, Robert.”

“Fire is just fine,” said Robert chucking his boxers to the floor. “I’ll warm you up.”

“I’m cold everywhere.” Anna’s eyes assessed his nude form approvingly. Neither of them were in their physical primes but they had both kept scrupulously fit. She found him as attractive as the first time they'd met.

Robert bent one knee on the bed. One hand found its way under her gown. His fingers trailed up behind her thigh. “Here?” His other hand caressed her exposed back. “Hmm, you ARE cold. This calls for immediate treatment.” His head swooped down to nuzzle her neck.

“Do you h-h-have a diagnosis, doctor?” Her head fell back giving him more room.

His eager hands inched her gown up, up and off. “Only after a thorough examination with your permission.”

“Permission given.” Her breasts brushed against his chest. They moved closer chest to chest, thigh to thigh. "Touch me, anywhere, everywhere. Make me forget."

"Forget what?"

Anna stroked his face. "That we were ever apart."

* * *

Later, Anna watched Robert sleeping. Ever since the night of his violent episode, she had gotten in the habit of watching him and making sure he was having a peaceful sleep. Once he seemed to be peacefully sleeping, then she would go to sleep herself.

Unfortunately, besides soothing Robert in his sleep as he sometimes became agitated, Anna found herself with time on her hands. Time that she was spending thinking of the past no matter what she did to stop herself.

 

The Nereo 1992

Her ear was pressed hard against the bedroom door. In the salon, Faison was on the shortwave giving instructions to his people. Anna closed her eyes tightly willing herself to concentrate on deciphering his words.

"Make sure the house is ready." Faison was saying. "My business is concluded here. It is time we departed."

"What house?" whispered Anna.

"I am certain that Anna will weather a cross Atlantic voyage. We will be docking soon and the doctor I have contacted assures me that he has medicines that will ease my lady's discomforts."

Anna gasped. This was the worst thing that could happen. The trail she was leaving would be lost. Any chance that she could escape and make her way home would dwindle to nothing if they crossed the ocean. She had to do something. Anything.

A half hour later, with a towel and lotion in her hands, Anna stepped into the salon. Instantly, Faison looked up from the documents he was reading.

"Cesar, are you free? I need your help."

"Certainly, my love. What do you need help with?"

"I've never considered myself an entirely vain woman but a pregnancy does change a woman's body." Anna's dejection and vulnerability were plain to see.

"It has only made you more beautiful," Faison said gently. "You ought to see yourself as I do. Ever lovely."

Anna smiled. "That's nice of you to say but I know different when I look in a mirror. I'm not twenty-five anymore."

"You are far better now with maturity, wisdom and grace."

"Ah, there you see. I told you."

Faison lips curled upwards ever so slightly. "Told me what?"

"You mentioned maturity, wisdom and grace but not beauty. Even you can see that I've ... lost that particular attribute. This is my second child after all."

"Pregnancy must warp your senses, Anna." Cesar approached Anna then cupped her face in his hands. He began to recite a poem by Lord Byron. "She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that's best of dark and bright. Meet in her aspect and her eyes. I can never get enough of your face and your eyes."

Anna looked away but did not shrug off Faison's hands on her face. She said casually, "You're the one who's blind. I've gained weight. By the end of the day my ankles are swollen anvils. And my skin feels so dry all the time. That's why I need your help actually."

"Yes, yes, I forgot."

Anna handed the bottle of lotion to Cesar and turned around placing her back to him. "I don't know if it's the pregnancy or the salty sea air, but my skin has become drier and drier."

With slow deliberate motions, Anna loosened her robe and let it fall to her waist. She brushed her long hair upwards holding it aloft with one hand leaving her bare back exposed. With the other hand, she clutched the towel to her bosom and tightened her hold on her robe. "Could you put lotion on my back, please. I can't reach back there. I've tried."

All his attention arrested by her actions and the view he now beheld, Faison could say nothing save for a nearly inaudible intake of breath.

"Cesar?"

"Y-y-yes?"

"The lotion. Please."

Faison dropped the lotion. Anna twisted halfway around watching Faison fumble with the lotion. "I hope you're better at holding a baby, Cesar."

As Faison rose to his feet holding the lotion, his eyes met Anna's direct gaze. His eyes traveled over her captivating face, her swan-like neck, her creamy shoulders and down to the towel that barely shielded her modesty. He managed to say in a low voice. "I will be much better."

With a dancer's unconscious grace, Anna stood and kept her back to Faison. "I'm feeling cold. Please, Cesar."

"Cold? We cannot have that." Faison poured some lotion on his hands then blew to warm it. He clasped his hands together mingling the lotion and warming it with friction.

Before Faison laid a hand on her skin, Anna closed her eyes. In her mind, she imagined herself elsewhere with someone else. Someone whose touch she yearned for. Someone who would whisper the naughtiest things in her ear while his sure tender touch coaxed her mind and heart to flame.

Tentatively, Faison touched her shoulder looking for signs of aversion or resistance. Instead her back arched as if towards his touch. Emboldened, he laid a palm on her right shoulder and began to lather the lotion down and across her smooth back.

"Hmmm," Anna murmured.

"Is ... is that good?" asked Faison.

"Yes. Very warm."

Faison nodded happily. Using both hands, he spread and massaged the lotion over Anna's back. "You are flawless, Anna."

The way he said her name jarred her from her fantasy but her body was still enveloped in a sensual lassitude. Anna inhaled slowly and arched her neck. "Can you do my arms?" Anna gritted her teeth.

Eagerly, Faison poured more lotion on to his hands. He warmed them and stepped closer to her. As he did so, his breath wafted close over her neck and shoulders. "As you wish."

She could feel her body responding to his touch even as her mind denied it. She hungered for touch, affection and passion. She had too long been deprived.

"Are there other areas that need attention?" asked Faison.

At his words, Anna's hand, the one that held the towel close to her body, jerked and spasmed bringing her thoughts fully into the present. "I ... I don't like ... d-dry skin. Thank you, Cesar." Anna moved to lift her robe but it was Faison who raised her robe over her shoulder.

"I will be very happy to assist you at any time," Faison said. "You need only call me."

Anna moved a few steps away for privacy while refastening her robe. "I will call you. I'm rather tired. Good night, Cesar."

Cesar saw her to her room. She made directly for the bed and curled upon it. A few minutes later with the door close and no noise coming from the salon, Anna rose from her bed.

She stripped off her robe and flung it across the room. She rubbed at her arms, shoulders and back with the towel. Doing so could not erase what had happened but it was a symbolically defiant gesture.

From now on every gesture had to count towards her new purpose - to keep the Nereo from heading for Europe. Faison had too many resources and contacts in Europe. Once there, he could make them disappear as she had heard him say often enough.

Anna changed into a new nightgown. She lay on the bed and indulged herself in a midnight ritual. Faison could control her movements but her mind was still her own.

Dreamily, her mind picked a fun memory to relive and pass the time until she fell asleep. Tonight she drifted back to an unforgettable night in a rundown, cheesy motel in the middle of nowhere.


	5. Distractions and Disturbing Discourse

Sunday, January 4, 2009 Villa Scorpio 6:30 AM

Patrick with Emma bundled in his arms came in through the front door and headed straight for the loggia. There he found Robert sitting on the tiled floor looking critically at a puppy. The other pups play wrestled around him tugging at his pants and jumping on and off his lap.

“Hugo?” Robert held up one of the pups. It licked his nose. He looked down and realized he was wrong. “Not a Hugo. Henrietta? Brunhilde? Viola? Juliet? Hera?” He saw Patrick come in. “Morning, son. How’s your Shakespeare? Greek mythology?”

“Morning, Dad. Why do you ask?”

“Andrew insists on classical names.” Robert picked up another puppy. “You look like an Ares to me? Ares, god of war? Hephaestus? Hermes? No, you’re the lazy one of the bunch.”

“How about Snowy, Doc and Sleepy?” suggested Patrick squatting down so the puppies could nose and lick Emma’s flailing hands.

“Classics of Western civilization.” said Robert.

“Disney IS a classic.”

“Oberon, Titania, Demetrius, Hermia, Lysander ... what’s the name of the jackass in ... in A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” asked Robert.

“Nick Bottom!” shouted Andrew coming through the outside doors. “I’m not going to call out ‘here Bottom, here boy’ but I like the first few names.”

“Boring!” said Patrick. “You want fun names like Pongo, Perdita and Tramp.”

“Certainly, Patrick if the dogs were Pekinese or some silly lap dog breed. However, these are proud working dogs bred true for centuries.” argued Andrew. “They require distinctive, dignified names.”

“I can do dignified and classical and still be fun. How about Finn from Huckleberry Finn? Or a Tolkien character - Elrond, Arwen, Boromir, Strider. I like Gryphon from Alice in Wonderland.”

“Not bad. Tolkien is possible,” mused Andrew. "I'll hold judgment on C.S. Lewis."

Robert picked up the most mischief-prone of the tan and black pups. “This one is going to be Oberon.” He fixed a blue collar on Oberon. “Patrick, Robin wanted one so you should pick and name the one you want.”

“I want a boy pup to balance the male-female ratio in the house.” Patrick picked the gentlest puppy in the litter. Its coat was darker than the others but it had a very intelligent face. “I dub thee Strider.”

Robert fastened a green collar on Strider. "Andrew, last one?"

Andrew stroked the puppy’s back. “I’ll call you, my little lady, Juno, after the patron goddess of Rome.” He fastened a red collar on Juno.

“The puppies are named. My work for the day is done.” declared Robert rising to his feet. “What happened, Andrew? You’re back early from class.”

“I have an appointment at the theater with Aunt Tiffany to go over the additional changes she would like to request before the fundraiser,” said Andrew also rising to his feet. “Is the coffee ready? I feel a need for strong fortification.”

“Back early from where?” asked Patrick who was sprawled on the floor with Emma and the puppies.

“Anna has started defense training sessions with anyone who cares to attend.” said Robert.

“Mother is hard enough but Robin is vicious and sneaky.” Andrew flexed his shoulders in remembered discomfort. “She has many little tricks. You almost need to have eyes in the back of your head.”

“Robin? She who is my wife?”

“Yes,” said Andrew fixing himself some eggs from the buffet table. “They’re in the Barn gym. Have a look.”

“This I have got to see.” Patrick hoisted Emma into his arms. They crossed the walkway and entered the Barn.

* * *

In the gym, security staffers were paired up practicing a variety of martial arts. The gym echoed with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, bodies hitting mats and guttural expressions uttered in pain and attack. To the right, he saw Shane fly through the air and fall hard on the mat. To his left, Lars and Simms were practicing with real knives.

“These guys are hardcore, Emma.” Patrick scanned the gym looking for Robin.

He found Robin pressed against the wall struggling against a choke hold courtesy of Giles. Patrick felt his pulse quicken at the sight. His feet hastened towards Robin while his hand formed a fist ready to challenge Giles if he didn’t let go of the choke.

Robin slammed both palms into Giles’ ears followed by a hard smack to his nose. The hold loosened and Robin broke free. She balanced on her feet and launched a wide kick towards a reeling Giles. Giles parried the kick and the one after it with some effort. Robin did not hold back.

“Robin!” called out Patrick.

Robin turned and in that instant of inattention Giles struck. A low sweeping kick brought Robin flat on her back on the mat driving the breath out of her. Giles pounced and straddled her. He held back a killing stroke waiting for her surrender.

“Out, tap out!” cried Robin. “Damn it!”

“You did quite well for one out of practice,” said Jacques sitting on a chair watching the proceedings.

“You cannot get distracted, Robin. Remember Grant Putnam!” exhorted Anna. “He was able to get a jab in when I got distracted.”

“I got it! I got it! I’ll do better.” Robin got to her feet panting. “Morning, sweetie!” She took Emma out of Patrick’s arms. "How's my baby?"

Patrick strode up to Giles. “Hey, what did you think you were doing, buddy?! You could have hurt her for real.”

“That was the idea, Dr. Drake,” said Giles with no hint of apology or defensiveness. “She has the training but needs practice.”

“That wasn’t practice! You wanted to win at any cost.”

“This is not little league class,” said Giles with a hint icy disdain. “Robin is aware of her skill level. The only way to better her capabilities is to be matched with someone of slightly greater level. Besides, she had the option to tap out at any time. She was in no actual danger.”

Robin inserted herself between the two men. “Cool it. I’m fine, Patrick. Giles, thank you very much for being my sparring partner.” She drew Patrick away pulling at his coat.

Patrick looked Robin over up and down. He saw no injuries. In fact, her face glowed from the exertion. “You enjoyed that?”

“Yeah, I did. It felt good to not hold back,” said Robin.

“What do you mean not hold back?”

“Honey, Mom taught me the Krav Maga discipline from an early age. If I really lost my temper in a fight, I could cause serious injury. When I spar here, I can just let go. Not completely but enough to hone my mind and body.”

“For god’s sake, I can see bruises around your neck.”

“We’re supposed to be training for real life situations. The Krav Maga is the best training for dealing with life threatening situations like someone choking me,” explained Robin. “I was giving as good as I got earlier. You missed it. I am so out of shape.”

“You look fantastic and very sexy.”

“I’m flabby and far from toned. My physical strength has been better. I need to work on unconscious reflexes, too.”

“Don’t overdo it.”

“I want to be in trim fighting shape. It’s important to me.”

“You’re a dead shot with gun. Keep the gun with you.”

“I can’t rely on a gun. It’s best to be able to do hand to hand competently,” insisted Robin. “Look, Mom and Giles are sparring. You want to see real fighting. Here you go.”

Anna and Giles were fitting themselves with form-fitting pads over their chest. Anna slipped on tight gloves. Giles put on a helmet which made Anna laugh.

“Why a helmet on Mr. Glorified Bodyguard?” asked Patrick.

“Mom knocked him out once with a high kick. He doesn’t want a repeat,” said Robin. “Giles is not just a bodyguard, Patrick. Please don't refer to him as one. I’ll tell you about him later.”

Giles and Anna took their places on the mat. The others had stopped their training to watch. Anna and Giles bowed formally before beginning to circle each other. Jacques looked on. He held a quarter staff in one hand.

Anna and Giles came at each other in a flashing blur of arms and legs. Anna parried a swinging leg strike and followed it up with a deceptively slow kick of her own that caught Giles unawares. Giles fell to one leg then rolled away to his feet. He attacked with a series of lightning jabs to Anna’s face and torso. Anna dodged the blows using her superior footwork and natural grace to stay a hairbreadth ahead of the raining blows.

She caught the last blow and twisted Giles’ arm ruthlessly. He let out a groan before wriggling his body to maneuver himself to body slam Anna down to the mat. That got a reaction from the audience.

“Oh, baby, that had to hurt,” cringed Patrick.

“Mom is just warming up,” grinned Robin. “She was holding back studying his technique and strategy.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Watch.”

Anna got up slowly and stretched her back and neck. She circled Giles a predatory smile on her lips. She faked a neck strike and gripped Giles shoulder and launched a hook kick on his solar plexus. Despite the padding, Giles felt the kick. And the next kick and the next kick. Giles managed to push Anna away. He was breathing hard.

Giles went forward with a low scissor kick. He ducked at the last moment when Anna returned with a high snap kick to the head. Unfortunately, the snap kick was a feint and he fell for it. With his face lowered to her waist level, he was unable to dodge a series of flat handed strikes on his face. Anna grasped Giles by the neck and using her forward momentum drove him down on to the mat. Anna laid hard punches on his chest and face before straddling him and forcing him to yield. They both stood up and bowed to the applause of the audience.

“Damn, she WAS holding back,” said Patrick. “What discipline was she using?”

“Different kinds. She likes to improvise on the fly. That makes her unpredictable and hard to defend against,” said Robin admiringly. “It takes years of dedication and practice to be that good.”

“She can take Dad down. Easy.”

“Um, no, Patrick, she can’t.”

“Dad is better? Than that?!” asked an astonished Patrick.

“Yes and no. He’s really good but his advantage over her is that he knows her moves so well. He’s able to neutralize her,” said Robin. “Uncle Sean isn’t bad either. He taught me a few things.”

“So Belle is another female ninja?”

“Not yet. Sean would see to it that she wasn’t entirely defenseless,” Robin laughed. “But I know Sean asked Mom to teach Belle full military-style Krav Maga.”

Jacques motioned Anna to remain on the mat. Dressed in a tracksuit, Jacques made his way opposite Anna carrying his quarter staff. Giles tossed a staff to Anna.

“Ooooh, I’ve heard Jacques is good. He taught Andrew, Giles and Andre,” said Robin.

“A guy his age is going to be flat on the mat in record time,” said Patrick skeptically.

"Appearances can be deceiving, honey," Robin cautioned.

Anna and Jacques bowed formally before assuming a fighting stance. Anna circled Jacques who remained in the center of the mat expending little energy. Anna swung her staff in wide arcs mere inches from her opponent’s nose trying to dislodge Jacques from his position. He did not move.

Anna closed in thrusting her staff high and low then slashing with short powerful strokes. His parries were rapid and made without hesitation. The sound of staff hitting staff rang through the gym like machine gun fire so fast were the exchanges.

Jacques moved forward catching Anna unawares putting her on the defensive. Anna swung her staff in wide arcs to keep Jacques at a distance. On what would be Anna’s last swing, Jacques flicked his staff straight up colliding with Anna’s staff in mid air. Anna’s grip slackened for a mere second. It was enough for Jacques. He slid his staff to the horizontal and flung it towards Anna while with the other hand pulling Anna’s staff completely out of her grip.

Anna dodged the projectile letting it sail past as she tucked and rolled to her left. During her roll, Jacques moved towards her his staff held out. He stopped her roll with a less than gentle tap on her shoulder leaving her sprawled on the mat. Jacques held the staff at her throat. She surrendered.

“That was so good!” Robin along with the audience was clapping and cheering.

“I take back everything I said about the old guy. That was awesome,” said Patrick.

“Absolute economy of motion,” gushed Robin. “He almost seemed to know what Mom was going to do before she did it.”

“Can Andrew do that?”

“Probably. Jacques says he’s his best pupil. Like Jacques, Andrew disguises his moves. I don’t see his moves coming at all,” said Robin. “I can see how he could have taken on those gang members.”

“Four pairs of broken arms is enough proof for me.” said Patrick.

Anna and Jacques bowed to each other before acknowledging the applause. The older man raised her hand to his lips and gave it a gentleman’s kiss.

* * *

Dockside Apartments 9 AM

Maria poured coffee for her and Franjo in the cramped kitchen of the tiny apartment. Her glance fell on Franjo who was at the counter preparing for a mission briefing. She took his coffee to him.

“Now, Maria, you have been curious about our operation. I will tell you.” said Franjo.

“Are we still after the child?” she asked careful to hide her anxiety.

“Our primary target is the mother.”

“Robin Scorpio?”

“The mother,” said Franjo. “You must not attach names to targets, Maria. You must remain objective. That was the first rule I learned from my mentor Leo Jarvil. Stay objective and focused.”

“The target then.”

“We will take the child and deliver the child to Etienne.”

Maria was surprised. “He’s taking charge of the operation?”

“He has always been in charge of this operation. We are following his plan. This is very important. Do this well and you will be noticed in the organization. Think of what more you can do for your family once you have been promoted.”

“I see.” said Maria neutrally. Given what she now knew about the Scorpios and Domino, Maria wondered if the plan was more about revenge than anything else. Who was being objective? “Will the child be harmed?”

“Of course not. Etienne has assured me that no harm will come to the child. She is a bargaining tool. That's all.” Franjo continued detailing the plan. “We will expose the target to Compound X. The target will be susceptible to our commands for a short duration, a few hours I would say. We will command her to give us the child. No violence will be necessary.”

“How long will the child be kept?” asked Maria.

“That is up to Etienne. Not long.” said Franjo. “Once we have delivered the child, we will move to New York City to take part in a second operation.”

“But why the child? It seems so pointless.”

“We have a client. We have a job to do. We cannot think of anything beyond that.” said Franjo.

"But-" Maria began.

“Let me finish the briefing. The second operation involves these men and women.” He gestured to the pictures he had laid flat on the counter. “For now, I want you to memorize their faces and names. I will tell you more after our first assignment is completed.”

“Franjo, when and how are we to accomplish mission one?”

“Sometime in the next few days. I’ve studied her habits and routines. You have access at the hospital. Between the two of us, we will find the best opportunity.”

* * *

Zekkers Bakery 1 PM

Hans Reinhardt stood up and pulled a chair out for Dianara Amanti. On the small table, glasses of water and plates of sandwiches were ready.

“Thank you for seeing me on short notice, Dianara,” said Hans. “I’ve ordered your favorite sandwich.”

“Presumptuous and high handed as usual.”

“I thought it was a thoughtful gesture on my part. You modern women have taken feminism too far.” said Hans. “There was a time when women like men who took charge.”

“Fortunately, those days are over. What did you want to talk about? I’m not aware of issues between us or our sharing of surveillance duties.” said Dianara sipped her water.

“I have concerns about your relationship with Mac Scorpio.”

“My personal life is none of your concern.”

“In our line of business, the professional and the personal are one and the same.”

“I keep them separate.”

“How objective can you be in protecting your charge when you are sleeping with his uncle?” asked Hans.

“I think that you’d best keep to your own business and out of mine.”

Hans was undeterred. “You may, one day, be forced to make a choice between your job and your lover. What will you do?”

“What would you do?” countered Dianara.

“I chose my job, my country.”

“How patriotic of you.”

“I have few regrets,” said Hans. “Back then things were clearer - black and white, my side and the other side.”

“It’s a better world now. More order and less chaos. We get things done instead of chasing each other all over the world playing cat and mouse games.”

“But is it better? We have gone soft.”

“The old guard speaks,” said Dianara. “We serve our country just the same as before.”

“We serve a machine created by a young boy who will become a formidable man,” said Hans. “Look at his mentors. Faison honed his intellect. Scorpio taught him the spirit of justice and conscience. Abelard, yes I know of him, taught him control and order. Anna Devane will give him heart and will. He will be unstoppable.”

“I don’t like what I THINK I’m hearing,” said Dianara tensing in her seat. “What ARE you saying?”

“Just the ramblings of an old man. Ignore it,” Hans rose. “Remember what I said about relationships and choices. Perhaps, you have already made your choice.”

Dianara watched him carefully weighing his words with what she knew. Hans was becoming a danger she was sure of that. But what to do about it?

* * *

Villa Scorpio 10:30 PM

Anna lay nude on her stomach on their bed. Her face rested on her crossed arms. Only a towel covered her lower torso. Rivulets of massage oil marked her fair skin. Gentle yet intent fingers kneaded her sore muscles in concentric circles spreading the oil as they went down her back.

“You have a nasty bruise on your shoulder, luv,” said Robert astride Anna. “I’ll put some numbing salve on it later.”

“That’s Jacques’ love tap with his staff. That man is full of surprises,” mumbled Anna. “I am getting too old for this, Robert.”

“Hardly,” said Robert. “I can officially certify that nothing on you sags, droops or jiggles.” His hands skimmed her sides from her waist to her arms.

“Yet,” came her quick reply. “Whose idea was this?” Anna’s voice mimicked Robert saying. “Anna, I think defense class would be a good way to bond with Andrew.”

“It WAS a good idea.”

“Yes, I just love seeing the kids pummel each other,” said Anna sarcastically. “Andrew has exquisite technique and the cool detachment to be effective. But, Robin has the emotional strength to be more potent if she could just channel it properly. Lose that studied control and let it loose.”

Robert blew into his hands to warm them before bending over Anna to massage her neck. “I’m not worried. When it matters most, our girl rises to the challenge. She’ll bend but she won’t break. Andrew, on the other hand, IS fragile.”

The door swung open and Andrew marched in. Seeing his parents in a state of deshabille, he immediately turned around giving his back to them.

“I shall be brief. I just NEED to VENT!” Andrew declared.

“Proceed then,” said Anna calmly. She couldn’t help contrasting her children. Andrew had had a more European upbringing when it came to sex and nudity. Robin was thoroughly American. Andrew was entirely unfazed by his parents behavior. Had it been Robin that burst in the door they all would have been embarrassed.

“Tiffany Hill is an IMPOSSIBLE woman! Annabelle Donely is ... is even MORE IMPOSSIBLE! They won’t listen to reason. How much decor does the place need? It’s a ruddy gilded palace already!” shouted Andrew.

Anna sank her face in the pillow to muffle her laughter.

“And ... and they’ve hung these new drapes at the radio station.”

“The old drapes seemed faded and tatty to me. They should be replaced,” said Robert calmly continuing to massage Anna’s lower back.

“Father, it’s like a ... a madam’s boudoir in there with all the frou frou drapes and new upholstery.” Andrew raised his arms into the air. “How can I work in there? They were talking about feathers. Feathers! My god, where would THEY go?! It’s a radio station in a classy theater not ... not backstage at the Follies Bergere!”

Anna was by now laughing so hard that her entire body was shaking. Robert brought his knees closer to her body to keep himself on top.

“You’ve been to the Follies?” asked Robert pouring scented oil on his palm.

“No, but I’ve seen pictures.”

“Andrew, you could just say no,” advised Robert. “You hold the purse strings.”

“I can’t. They’ve worked so hard and ... and I just can’t,” said Andrew. “Could you speak to Tiffany? As soon as possible, tomorrow?”

“Let me think about it.” said Robert noncommittally.

“But ... but I can’t ... I simply cannot tolerate more frippery!”

“Andrew, you will deal with people far more, um, difficult than Tiffany or Belle. You have to learn how best to communicate with them. Expend some patience to understand their viewpoint.”

“Do I have to?” whined Andrew.

“Yes,” said Robert firmly. “Go to bed. Get some sleep. Try again tomorrow.”

“All right. The ship with my cargo comes in at dawn tomorrow. I want be there when it docks.” Andrew began to walk out. “Thank you for listening. Good night. Carry on. I shall lock the door on my way out.”

After Andrew left, Anna said, “Was that your version of tough love?”

“It’s the only way he’ll learn or be forced to learn. Inch him out of his comfort zone and see how he fares,” said Robert. “Do you object?”

“Not at all,” said Anna. “I don’t think I’ve ever noticed your parenting style before. Tough but fair. You weren’t like that with Robin.”

“Wasn’t I?” Robert asked.

“Well, yes, you were but not to that degree."

"Robin never had a problem trying new things or taking risks. She adapts amazingly well to change," Robert said. "I can't say that about Andrew. It's something he needs to work on."

Anna verbally flew to her son's defense. "You threw Andrew into the deep end of the pool with no remorse whatsoever. Tiffany can be very strident and pushy when she wants something. She has her own brand of ruthlessness.”

“I can’t be the doting father all the time. When under emotional distress, Andrew overreacts and can’t think clearly. He whines incessantly if you don’t stop him. If I remember correctly, Robin whining did not stand well with you either.”

“It drove me crazy.”

“I think the best way for him to learn how to restrain his impulses is to put him in stressful non-life threatening situations and give him practice. If that’s tough love so be it.” Robert rose on his knees moving to get off. “Your back is done. Time for sleep.”

Anna rolled over. She tugged at his boxers keeping him where he was. “I’m not the least bit sleepy.”

“What do we do now?” asked Robert playfully. “Perhaps, I ought to massage your front.”

“I think its your turn. Quid pro quo.” Anna’s hands travelled along his thighs to the waistband of his boxers. “Do you have any parts that ache, Robert?”

“Here and there.” said Robert.

“Where exactly?” Anna flipped Robert over and she straddled him.

Robert pointed at his lips. “Start here, Devane.”

Anna kissed him long and hard. “Where next, Scorpio?”

“Improvise.”


	6. Two Fathers and a Donkey

 

Villa Scorpio

Cradled in Robert's arms, Anna remarked, "I envy your ease and conﬁdence with our boy chick."

Robert chuckled. "That was hard-earned, believe me. He didn't make it easy on me in the early days. Let me tell you."

"Tell me."

"It's late. Aren't you exhausted?"

"I am but my mind can't seem to stop thinking." Anna smiled at Robert. "Maybe a good bedtime story is what I need."

Robert proceeded to tell Anna about meeting Andrew and their ﬁrst adventure together.

* * *

Cantania Fontanarossa Airport in Sicily 2003

Robert rustled his newspaper nervously. Beside him, Andrew dozed ﬁtfully. Every few minutes, Robert scanned the people milling around them for an older gentleman around sixty years of age with a red cap and a cane. That was Andrew's description of Capello.

Whether that was a ﬁrst or last name Andrew hadn't clariﬁed. Against Robert's better judgment, Andrew had contacted Capello from Cairo, Egypt. Here they were at the airport waiting for someone who may or may not show up.

Robert looked at his watch. It was exactly two hours from the time they had landed. Andrew had taken the delay in his own stride citing that Capello would arrive if a little late. After making this pronouncement, Andrew had proceeded to eat an enormous meal of spaghetti.

The boy has nerves of steel, Robert thought.

Andrew began to stir. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. He too checked his watch. He stood up on the bench and had a good look around. "There he is."

Without waiting for Robert, Andrew hopped oﬀ the bench and made his way through the crowd to a man who was exactly as his son had described - about sixty with a red cap or capello and a cane.

Robert followed Andrew discreetly watching the man greet his son as if they were long lost friends. Andrew led the older man by the hand outside chattering in ﬂuent and voluble Italian about his recent holiday.

In front of a battered dark green Fiat, a wiry woman of late middle age argued loudly and dramatically with a police oﬃcer. Robert guessed the oﬃcer was trying to convince her to drive oﬀ. The woman was having none of it.

The woman saw Capello approaching and shifted her shrill attentions to him. The policeman walked away satisﬁed that the couple would drive oﬀ and leave him in peace. All the while that the woman railed against the old man, Capello opened the back door for Andrew then got into the driver's seat.

Robert sped up to catch them before they left. The old woman winked at him and kept the door open. Robert suppressed a smile at the woman's cheek. Quickly, he scooted into the back seat beside Andrew.

Andrew and the woman kept up the conversation as Capello drove oﬀ. From the little Italian he could pick up, he could only tell that Andrew was describing a trip to the zoo. Robert watched the scenery closely. He was surprised and impressed when he realized that Capello was circling the airport twice to check for pursuit. After the second full circuit, Capello exited to the highway.

Then he took oﬀ his cap and addressed his passengers in a voice with a distinctive Scottish burr. "Well, laddie, what mischief have ye landed yourself into?"

"The house is all ready for you. By the looks of you two grubbies, a bath would be sorely welcome." The woman too spoke with a slight lilting accent.

Irish, Robert guessed.

She passed two bottles of water to Robert. "Here. We have a wee drive. You'd best rest."

"That was quite an act," said Robert.

"In Sicily, tis the quiet ones who are noticed," Maeve said.

"You're the boy's father, aren't ye? Me name's Feargus Campbell and this is my wife Maeve. You've got naught to fear from us as long as the boy's not harmed," Feargus declared.

"I don't mean harm to anyone. The name is Robert Scorpio." Robert studied the couple. "You're the second person who knows me but I've never met you in my life. How do you know I'm Andrew's father?"

"We were told you'd be by someday. Had to memorize a picture but not a name," Maeve answered in clip tones far removed from the Italian harridan she had just pretended to be.

"And what was to happen once you knew who I was?"

"We were instructed to tell you where to ﬁnd your boy," said Feargus.

"That's all?"

"What else is there?" This from Maeve.

Robert shook his head. "I don't know anymore. This caper isn't turning out into what I thought it would be. Where are we headed? Is it safe?"

"You didna tell 'im?" asked Feargus.

"No. Security. Need to know only." Andrew sipped his water. "How is Figaro?"

Maeve began to shake with laughter. "I've missed you so. Every time the house shakes I think of you."

"It wasn't my fault!" Andrew protested.

"I suppose it was always Figaro's fault, eh, boyo," said Maeve.

"You'll be staying at the house in Sant' Alﬁo, Mr. Scorpio," Feargus said. "Quite safe."

"Robert, please." Robert glanced backwards. No one was following them. He let some of his inner tensions ease. "I do have a lot of questions."

"So do we," Feargus responded. "No Salim or Mr. Pieter. I take it this is not a holiday visit, lad?"

"No, zio Gus," Andrew said quietly. "I hope Salim is all right."

"He gave a lot better than he got. He'll be ﬁne." Robert assured his son. "We're on the run, Feargus. We need some rest and then we'll be oﬀ again."

* * *

A little over an hour later, they reached a modest villa situated on the back slope of Mount Etna where Andrew had lived from the age of three until he was ﬁve. It was a modest villa now styled as vacation accommodations for tourists and other visitors. Maeve and Feargus lived in a smaller villa close by.

"It earns a good income so close to the volcano. We get a lot of researchers," Feargus said slamming the car door shut and leading the way into the villa.

"A Scotsman and an Irish woman in Sicily. Can't get stranger than that," Robert said.

Feargus laughed heartily. "Life is strange and all that. I was a geologist and Maeve a teacher. After a twelve year stint in Her Majesty's Marines, we settled here so I could specialize in volcanology and raise our young family."

"How did you meet Mr. Pieter Sinclair?" "He wanted some consultation done on some minerals and crystals he had found. He had a theory that they were related to volcanic rock. He was here studying Etna and the local tourist guide gave him my name." Feargus explained. "Decades later, Maeve and I were retired and Mr. Pieter made me an oﬀer to look after this place in exchange for housing and the volcano."

Maeve chuckled. "You can see how close this place is to Etna. Feargus couldn't accept fast enough."

"Volcanoes and crystals, how interesting," said Robert. "Did he have an Oriental woman with him?"

"One would visit him sometimes long, long ago before the lad's time. Very devoted she was but she never stayed long."

"Zio has a collection of rock specimens. He taught me all about them," Andrew put in as they entered the villa. "My favorite is the blue-green one."

"And an apt pupil ye were too," Feargus said.

"A blue-green crystal?" asked Robert with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"It glows in the dark and, when you hold it, it becomes warm."

Robert expression became unreadable.

"There are several bedrooms upstairs. We'll have some food ready in a few minutes," said Maeve.

Andrew dropped his backpack noisily on the couch. He ran towards the back of the house.

"Andrew!" Robert called out.

"I have to see F-Figaro!" came Andrew's response.

Robert looked questioningly at the couple. "Figaro?"

"Andrew's pet," Feargus said with a smile. "He's a miniature Sicilian donkey. Keeps the lawn nicely trimmed he does."

"Aye, when Andrew isn't leading him into mischief," Maeve said. "That boy destroyed the kitchen once."

"Twas the funniest thing I ever saw. Maeve had just polished and waxed the ﬂoor you see. Figaro came barging in. Andrew atop 'im holding on for dear life. They slide in. Figaro lost his feet and they went 'round and 'round the kitchen knocking everythin' down. Ye see he was pretendin' to be Don Quixote and his faithful steed. That boy ... once his mind is set on a course, there's naught ta do ta move him from it."

"He must have gotten that from Anna," Robert noted.

"Anna?" asked Feargus. Maeve disappeared into the kitchen.

"Andrew's mother."

"Is that her name?"

"You knew my name but not hers?" asked Robert perplexed.

"Mr. Pieter never mentioned Andrew's mother."

"Never? At all?"

Feargus shook his head. "Maeve and I assumed she'd died."

"She's quite alive. I assure you," Robert said puzzling over this new bit of information.

Feargus led Robert upstairs to one of the bedrooms and left him alone. Robert looked out the window overlooking the back garden. He could see Andrew playing with a shaggy dark brown donkey. They chased each other to and fro in the garden. The sight made him smile and laugh for the ﬁrst time in days.

* * *

Over dinner, Robert made more mental notes. It was obvious that the Campbells loved his son and he returned the feeling. Andrew was chatty and carefree. His appetite was as robust as ever. Feargus and Maeve were only too willing to tell stories of Andrew's time with them.

One thing was made clear to Robert. The Campbells had no notion of how dangerous a man P.K. Sinclair truly was. He was their benevolent employer, a world famous reclusive author and nothing more.

Never did the name Faison slip from Andrew's mouth. That displeased Robert and set his temper to simmering. How dare Faison use Andrew in his schemes? From Andrew's cleverness when surviving on his own, his knowledge of basic espionage techniques and his secretive nature, it was clear to Robert that Faison had trained the boy. If it were only for Andrew's protection, Robert could have understood that. But, he used Andrew to protect his own identity. That was another matter altogether.

Before retiring, Robert made an inspection of the grounds. It was sadly lacking in any form of security surveillance or protection. This was not a safe house, not really. The Campbells were good people who didn't deserve to be used as shields for a vile creature like Faison.

Tomorrow, he would take Andrew away. It was time to begin cutting the strings that Faison had woven around the boy.

* * *

"When should we be expecting Andrew's mother, Robert?" Maeve asked stirring her morning coﬀee.

"No need for that," Robert answered.

"But ... but Andrew is a delightful-"

"She doesn't know ... about him," Robert interrupted.

"What?"

"She ... when she gave birth to Andrew there was an ... accident," Robert said haltingly.

"Extreme trauma, I see," said Maeve. "The poor woman."

Robert's eyes were haunted. "Extreme. That's the right word."

Feargus smiled. "You will tell her won't you?"

Robert played with his food. "When the time is right. Nothing ... nothing will stop Anna from being with her son. Or my daughter from her brother. I'm going to be mincemeat."

"Andrew has a sister?"

"Yes. Robin. She's studying at the Sorbonne."

"But why did--" Feargus began to say.

Maeve gave her husband a quelling look. "The whys aren't for us, Feargus. For certain the reasons were good ones."

Robert shot a grateful look at Maeve. "I've seen enough to know that you love my boy and that counts a lot for the way he is now."

"He's a sweet rascal that one," smiled Maeve.

Feargus touched his wife's hand. "Our grandchildren visited us but having a wee one around kept us young and too busy to fret about retirement. Andrew's done much fer us, too."

"I'm ... I'm beyond grateful to both of you. Anna would be, too," Robert said. "It would be a poor return on that gratitude if our coming here has put you in a diﬃcult position."

Feargus misinterpreted Robert's real concern. "I don't believe Mr. Pieter would object."

"Be that as it may, as soon as Andrew is awake, we're leaving. Maeve, if you could pack a small lunch for us I would appreciate it."

"I'll get the car ready," oﬀered Feargus.

Robert shook his head. "We can't use your car. I want as little connection between us as possible. It's for your own good."

Feargus smiled. "The more unsavory locals dinna bother us at bit, Robert. Never have."

"Maybe they know who owns this place," muttered Robert. "Can you get us a hire car? Anything that will get us to the airport."

"It may help me make arrangements fer ye if I knew where ye were headed."

"The mainland," replied Robert.

"Would you mind goin' by boat instead?" asked Feargus. "T'would be more direct."

Robert grinned. "That ... that may not be a bad idea. What kind of boat?"

"Andrew's boat the Kestrel. It's docked at the Cantania marina. It would take an hour to prepare her for duty."

"He's got a boat?" asked Robert.

"It's Mr. Pieter's boat but Andrew has used it many times. He was here barely ten months ago. Instead of takin' the boat back out, he took a ﬂight oﬀ the island."

"F-f-Pieter was HERE? Where did he go?"

"He stayed fer only a few days then left for home. Twas what he said."

"He was on his way home," mused Robert. "What happened?"

"If ye want the boat, Robert, I'll have to call Captain Yaguezal to ready his crew," Feargus said.

"Sounds familiar that name ... where have I heard it before?" asked Robert. "Can he be trusted with Andrew? Wait, I remember. He was there when Andrew was born. Please contact the captain, Feargus."

"Tis seven now," Feargus looked at his watch. "I'll tell the Captain to expect us by nine. Where should he set course fer?"

"Naples for now."

Andrew's sleepy voice came from the stairs. "No. Switzerland."

"Good morning, son," Robert said. "Breakfast is fantastic. Hope you have a good appetite in the mornings."

Andrew padded into the kitchen and took a seat. Maeve had his favorite breakfast ready - fresh fruit, sausage fritatas, chocolate milk, croissants with marmalade. "I'm starving." Andrew poured some milk for himself.

"Eat up then we're oﬀ for a boat ride." Robert said as he ﬁnished his coﬀee. "Good thing you're a light packer."

"We need to go to Geneva," Andrew said.

"Is that where he is?" asked Robert.

"No, but I have to go there." Andrew speared a sausage and began to eat with gusto.

"If your Papa isn't there, what's the point?"

"You need not accompany me, sir. Meet me in Göteborg, Sweden in two weeks time." Andrew said. "Perhaps, traveling separately would be better."

"Oh, no, no, no. You're not getting rid of me that easily." Robert said all interest in his coﬀee forgotten. "If he's in Sweden, then let's go straight there."

Andrew ﬁnished his croissant before replying. "Sweden is only the ... the ﬁrst major node of connection. There is a place there where he would leave a clue for me."

"Again, why not go straight there?"

"There is no guarantee that Sweden is the ﬁnal destination. I am not fully prepared for an extended journey."

"And going to Geneva will do what? Prepare you?"

"Yes, I suppose that is correct."

Robert cleared his throat and tried to sound casual. "I could just tie you up and bring you on the boat with me. Next stop Naples."

"You could but I would be ... diﬃcult the entire way. I doubt it would be a pleasant trip for you." Andrew's tone was equally casual. "I can go so far as to guarantee that I would be a terrible companion."

Robert looked warily at his son. "You would?"

"It's a promise." Andrew drank his milk and smacked his lips. "Maeve's sausages are the best."

"Call it whatever you like, but I don't believe we've shaken oﬀ your other traveling companions. They must know by now that we're together," Robert said reasonably. "Why don't we compromise. Let's do the unexpected. Take the boat to Naples or Rome or whatever place with an airport. No one can be certain where we'll land. They'll be forced to follow us."

"They could follow by sea."

"Unless the Kestrel has changed from when I knew it as the Nereo, few boats will be able to keep up," Robert said. "Sound logical enough for you?"

"Yes, it does," Andrew agreed.

"Finish your breakfast while I take a quick shower."

Throughout his preparations, Robert thought over several possible strategies. The safest place for both of them was Paris with Jacques and Andre. He had to ﬁnd a way to get them there. The boat trip up the Italian coast was a good start.

"A cruise up the coast, dock at Sanremo then a dash to the Cote d'Azur airport and on to Paris." Robert spoke softly to himself. That particular airport he knew had multiple ﬂights to Paris. And he knew a pilot who was based there. He just had to get Andrew to that airport.

* * *

Robert played with Anna's hair. "I had my own plan. Andrew had his. Faison had his. I wished every day you were with us. You know Faison. You could have predicted what he would do and when."

"You were on the spot. You did your best. Andrew sounds like a complete prima donna," said Anna.

Robert chuckled. "You have no idea."


	7. Make It Local

January 5, 2009 WTPC TV Studio 7 AM

“Susan Quincy here with one of Port Charles’ most memorable former citizens Tiﬀany Hill and Maxie Jones co-editor at Crimson magazine.” The camera panned and the frame expanded to include Tiﬀany with Maxie seated next to her. “Tiﬀany, is it true you’re moving back to Port Charles?”

Tiﬀany smiled brightly. “That is absolutely true, darlin’. Sean, myself and our daughter Belle are moving back home.”

“Will Sean be working for the PCPD? And what will you be doing? You’re too young to retire.”

“Bless you for that. Sean will not be as involved in law enforcement this time around. He’s actually one of the principal investors in the Majestic Entertainment Complex. He’s heavily involved in that development project. As for me, I am going back to my roots a bit.”

“What do you mean? Something good?”

“I’ll be managing and providing programming for WKPC FM and AM once it goes live very, very soon. And we’re adding a modern twist to it by having video and audio podcasts. So, you may not see me, but I guarantee you’ll HEAR me!” exclaimed Tiﬀany.

“WKPC hasn’t been active in decades. It’s getting resurrected?”

“The station and transmission licenses came with the purchase of the Majestic Theater. The station is part of the city’s history dating back to the mid 1920s. I strongly believe that radio remains one of the most accessible forms of broadcast media there is. I got my start in a radio station a lot smaller than WKPC but the experience was, you know, an essential stepping stone that I’m grateful to have had.” Tiﬀany’s knowledge and enthusiasm informed every word she uttered. “Radio is the basic foundation of modern communication. With our global and mobile society these days, I think that there is a greater need to have broadcast content speciﬁc to our local communities - news that we care about, information that we need to learn about, advertising that supports local businesses and programming that is entertaining and enlightening, perhaps hosted or presented by many of our gifted citizens.”

“Oh, I know a lead line when I hear one,” laughed Susan. “What local celebrities have you got lined up? Will you have your own interview show?”

“My lips are sealed, Susan, they really are. I’ve said more than I should have and I am going to be in BIG trouble.” said Tiﬀany also laughing. “I will say that our maiden broadcast will be the day of the Alan Quartermaine Pediatric Pavilion fundraiser. We will be broadcasting the performances of Brook Lyn Ashton and Katherine Delaﬁeld plus other interviews and features about the event.” Tiﬀany gestured to Maxie. “That show will be hosted by this very talented young lady next to me, Maxie Jones.”

“When I heard that Katherine Delaﬁeld was going to perform I couldn’t believe it. Maxie, this is quite a change from Crimson for you. Fashion to broadcasting. How are you going to do it?”

Maxie pasted a nervous smile on her face. Though she was dressed fashionably, she sat with her back ramrod straight and legs primly crossed. “As ... as carefully as I can, Susan. I’m going to look to Tiﬀany for all the pointers she can give me. This is an amazing opportunity for me but it’s an even better one for our audience. Ms. Delaﬁeld has not done a live concert in three years. I spoke with Brook-Lyn recently. She is super excited about performing with Ms. Delaﬁeld.”

“They’ll be doing a duet?” asked Susan.

“Possibly. We will be doing interviews with both of them before and after their performance. Plus, covering any exciting news that come out of the fundraiser. This is a once in a lifetime event, buy a ticket, be there and support a wonderful institution like General Hospital.”

“Dr. Monica Quartermaine mentioned that there would be auctions. Can you tell us what will be auctioned? And, in the bachelor auction, who are we going to be bidding on?”

Maxie giggled. “All the auction items will be available for viewing the night of the fundraiser. We can’t say very much because we don’t want to spoil the surprise. We do have a very special piece of artwork that has been donated by a private collector. Dianara Amanti has donated her time to be a spokesperson for the winning bid’s company, product or event. Local businesses have made donations to the auction - Zekkers Bakery, DigiMaze, ELQ, Trident Security Management, Green Pearl Imports, WKPC, the Majestic Theater, the Metro Court Hotel and many more. There’s going to be something for everyone.”

“Susan, the bachelors we have lined up are single and so scrumptious. If I wasn’t already married, I would be bidding!” gushed Tiﬀany.

“Names, Tiﬀany, give me names.”

“Where do I start? Dr. Matt Hunter, Dr. Noah Drake, Dr. Leo Julian, Commissioner Malcolm Scorpio, Detective Lucas Spencer, musician Toussaint DuBois, FBI Agent Jagger Cates, ﬁnancier Nikolas Cassadine and ﬁlmmaker Dillon Quartermaine.”

“I’m speechless.”

“You better not be during the auction.” teased Tiﬀany. “It’s gonna be good.”

Susan frowned and pressed her earpiece. “What is that? Ok, ok.” She looked at the camera. “We have some breaking news to report. Eva Gomez is on site. Eva, what’s happening?”

In the studio, they peered at a monitor on the set. Reporter Eva Gomez appeared on the screen with the strobe lights of several police squad cars whirling behind her. “We are on the corner of Main and Easton, four blocks from the Majestic Theater, where a shootout is in progress below us in the underground caves called the Catacombs.” Eva moved to stand beside Sergeant Jardane. “Sergeant Jardane, tell us what is going on?”

“We received a tip that large quantities of contraband of some kind had been found in a section of the Catacombs. Oﬃcers were sent to investigate. During the investigation, the, uh, putative owners of the contraband attempted to retrieve said contraband and a stand oﬀ is in progress now.”

“Do we know the owners and the oﬃcers in the shootout? Has anyone been hurt?”

“The contraband is legally under the custody of the PCPD at this time. The shootout involves several oﬃcers Captain Samantha Wells, Lieutenant Alvin Martinez and Commissioner Scorpio. They are engaged with an unknown number of assailants who we believe have ties to organized crime. We are not aware of, um, casualties at this time. I have to get back now. Excuse me.” Jardane left the frame.

“This portion of Main is blocked and a large manhole is open leading down into the catacombs. Local businesses have been instructed to stay inside and away from the street.” Eva Gomez visibly winced. "Ah, Susan, we can hear sporadic gunﬁre coming from underground. We’ll be staying here until this is ... is resolved. Back to you.”

* * *

Below street level, the catacombs wound and spread out into passages going in every direction. Bright sunlight ﬁltered down from the open manhole illuminating a small cavern with a manmade alcove recessed into the rock. In the alcove were stacked dozens of wooden crates containing various kinds of contraband. Large portable electric lights installed by the PCPD bathed the area in bright white light. Outside of these area of light, the rest of the cavern lay dim and shadowed.

Mac crawled over the ground towards Dianara who crouched behind a rock shelf a few meters in front of the alcove. “Jardane’s team is coming from the other end. We just have to keep them pinned where they are.”

“Are we sure that this cavern doesn’t have other entrances and exits?” Dianara asked.

“Suki and Giles says not. It’s just one long corridor.”

They both turned at a noise behind them. Also crouching were Giles and Sam coming towards them fast with Prospero lumbering behind him.

“Jardane says that his team is down but a lot further away than we thought. They’re making their way here but its slow going in the dark and they don’t want to tip these guys oﬀ that they’re getting cut oﬀ.” said Sam.

“All right. Look, we need to ﬁnd them and, if not, keep them pinned where they are.” said Mac.

Giles whispered. “Prospero is trained to be a ﬁnder. He can at least point us in the right direction.”

“What are you doing down here, you’re supposed to be guarding Andrew,” hissed Mac.

“Dianara’s team is here. Andrew is in good hands,” said Giles. “Robert and Nestor have the entrance to the theater locked down.”

“Alvin and Lars have the contraband covered,” said Sam.

“Got it. Let’s do some leapfrogging. Sam, cover Giles and Prospero. Dia and I will follow behind you and cover you two.” Mac gestured to Martinez. “Lay a line of ﬁre once we’re out of here to distract the other side.”

Martinez nodded. He and Lars slid into position. Giles commanded Prospero to ﬁnd and the dog sniﬀed the air a few times. Then he darted oﬀ tugging at his leash. Giles and Sam went oﬀ. Dianara and Mac gave them a minute head start then following the fading sound of Prospero’s padded feet and heavy breathing they left the safety of the alcove.

On a count of ten, Martinez and Lars stood up above the rock shelf and ﬁred in the direction where earlier ﬁre from the gang members had come from. Their guns blazed as they exhausted most of their clip. As expected, red and gold lights ﬂashed in the darkness as their ﬁre was returned. They returned ﬁre quickly.

After ﬁve minutes, the cavern was ﬁlled with the sounds of growls and yelps of pain. Shots rang out in the darkness. Lars and Martinez trained their guns into the middle of the cavern ready for anything.

The sound of running footsteps came closer and closer. Two men came running and stumbling into the light. Prospero barreled into one of the men pushing him to the ground.

“Freeze! Police!” shouted Martinez.

The gang member raised his hands in the air. “All right! Get that devil away from me!”

More gunﬁre echoed in the cavern. Cautiously, Martinez frisked and handcuﬀed the man while Lars kept watch. Prospero plopped down on top of the downed man. Faintly, they could hear Mac barking orders.

A few minutes later silence descended on the cavern. They heard the shuﬄing and tramping of feet coming towards them. Prospero woofed a greeting as Giles came to get him.

Five gang members with their hands over their heads led the way under the watchful eye of Jardane’s four man squad and Sam. Mac and Dianara trailed behind them.

“Good job all around, team. There are going to be commendations for this one.” grinned Mac. “And a huge bag of treats for you, Prospero.”

* * *

A half hour later, Eva stood beside Mac as he informed the press of the results of the shootout.

“Today, the PCPD captured thirty-six wooden crates ﬁlled with contraband ranging from illegally imported cigarettes, counterfeit goods and at least a million dollars in cash. We believe this to be the largest capture of contraband in a long while. We apprehended seven suspects with known ties to organized crime. There were no casualties at all. All the oﬃcers involved will be receiving commendations for this operation.”

“That’s a lot of cash, Commissioner. Is that from sales of contraband items?”

“We believe that to be the case. The suspects regularly removed items from the stash to sell. They were on the way to get inventory when they realized we had found them out and seized the crates.”

“I would think that drugs would be more lucrative.”

“Not necessarily. Illegal cigarettes imported into this country are sold to unscrupulous dealers and all proﬁts kept by the seller. The dealers pay no tax whatsoever. That lost revenue can cost the city millions in taxes that could have been used to fund public and community services,” explained Mac. “All over this country markets are being ﬂooded by counterfeit or pirated goods from handbags, to clothing, DVDs and CDs. The only ones making money from this stuﬀ is the seller. Counterfeit trading is just as harmful as drugs in my opinion.”

“Thank you, Commissioner. Susan, that’s it for us from here. Chalk up another win for the PCPD.”

* * *

Mayor Floyd cursed at the screen. Scorpio was getting all the glory again. And, if rumors were true sleeping with a supermodel. Life was just not fair. He would have a harder time convincing the city council to squeeze the PCPD budget even further if it kept getting results like this.

In the back of his mind, another thought came. His most generous, if secret, campaign contributor would be livid. It was his job to inconvenience the PCPD as much as possible. His campaign war chest depended on it. After years of ineptitude, the PCPD was on the rebound.

“Damn those Scorpios!” yelled the mayor.

“Get it out of your system now. You’re going to have to smile at the press conference,” said his wife Andrea coming into his bedroom.

“What press conference?”

“The press conference that you will call to commend the PCPD’s brave oﬃcers, of course.” said Andrea. “You’re the mayor. You have to look mayoral even if you want to choke the commissioner to death.”

“He’s going to ruin everything!”

“Don’t you worry. It’s just luck. It’s bound to run out,” said Andrea soothingly.


	8. Moving Day

Monday, January 5, 2009 The Megaplex 10 AM

The majority of the construction crews had moved indoors. The large square sandwiched between the grand Art Deco styled Majestic Theater and the modernized Art Nouveau inspired DigiMaze Superstore was completed at last. A rectangular fountain stood at the center line between the two buildings. It was too cold to add the statuary that was to be the fountain’s centerpiece from which the water would spring forth from and into the rest of the fountain. Instead, two artists were busily sculpting two massive blocks of ice into suitable shapes in time for the complex’s opening.

Around the fountain, workers power-washed the concrete walk which had been fashioned in the shape and theme of cobblestone walks. The walks were lined with street lamps styled after turn of the century gas lamps. Here and there were placed cozy benches and low stone tables that invited patrons to dawdle and enjoy the experience instead of rushing to the next activity. One could follow the walk deeper into the complex’s heart to shop and stroll through the small shops and restaurants now being furnished and ﬁlled among the three low slung buildings behind and between the two main anchor ediﬁces.

Businessmen and women greeted each other busy but smiling as they put their stores to rights or helped the construction crews as best they could. Many businesses were moving from their main street storefronts to new spaces in the complex. Workers and owners alike shuttled back and forth bringing furniture, equipment and supplies.

If the theater recalled the bygone days of the thirties and forties and DigiMaze drew the eye to its eye-popping technology displays and design, then the rest of the complex evoked a more bohemian ﬂair. The exterior of the three buildings had been redone and enhanced to reﬂect distinct areas with each having its own theme. An exotic Eastern facade marked the building housing stalls for artisans of pottery, native arts and crafts, imported carpets and furnishings, hand-blown glassware and other handmade goods.

Much of the second ﬂoor space was given to the Abbey Bookstore a subsidiary of the St. Germain Abbey bookstore in Paris. Giles and Jacques supervised their new employees as they set the store shelves to rights. With its Old World charm and antiques, the bookstore would be an antiquarian’s dream.

The food court was distinguished by its ﬁfties theme. Two vintage rail cars donated by Donely Enterprises were remade into the train-themed Caboose Cafe that lined one side of the food court. The Caboose’s menu was hot dogs, hamburgers and fries. Zekkers Bakery held a prime spot in the court with an inside bakery and outside eating patio. Next to Zekkers stood the Pop Hop Soda Fountain and Sandwich Grill done up in ﬁfties diner stylings. Photos of Port Charles history dotted the walls with General Hospital most prominent among them.

Deeper into the court was the French bistro themed Chez Lola restaurant, bar and garden serving an eclectic worldwide menu from ﬁlet mignon to Moroccan lamb to authentic Spanish paella. Next door, La Trattoria oﬀered a rustic Italian menu amidst the ambiance of two ﬁreplaces, wide booths and wooden tables and chairs complementing a long marble bar. O’Malley’s Irish Pub completed the dining trifecta.

Next to the food court was the Victorian themed building. Within its gabled facade were stores for apparel, jewelry and house furnishings. Windom’s specialty store Milady’s Parlour had workers stocking and displaying intimate apparel for the proper and not so proper woman with excellent taste. Hartwell Jewelry had a spacious but discreet establishment next to the Parlour. The Lee Health Shop oﬀered everything for one’s medicinal and homeopathic needs. Boarstone Haberdashery was the place for men’s formal wear, shirts, suits and ties. Modern dress was not ignored. The MyMojo design shop anchored the ﬁrst ﬂoor space with custom Tshirts and jeans for the discriminating buyer.

In the DigiMaze Superstore, construction work was ongoing alongside the crafting of store displays and stands. The front of the store was redone to feature a steel and glass dome open to the sky under which the main sales ﬂoor spread out. A sweeping black steel and wood staircase invited customers into the second ﬂoor where they could view, behind glass walls, the work labs where much of the custom work was done or take classes in one of the small meeting rooms. The third ﬂoor was for now home to makeshift oﬃces and sleeping quarters for the many staﬀers from DigiMaze’s European stores who had been brought over to lead the store setup and perhaps stay afterwards.

Andrew, Lars and Salim studied the blueprints intently. This was the biggest ﬂagship store for the company and Andrew was determined that it would be the best. Emma, snug in her carrier which was slung over Andrew’s back, accompanied him as he made regular tours through all three ﬂoors of the new store.

Right now the complex was a frantic tangle of people and goods as opening day loomed closer and closer. More stores would open in time but the complex was oﬀ to a sound start. TV and other media crews from as far away as New York City and Canada came daily to cover the development and more were expected for the opening festivities.

* * *

 

Inside the theater away from the hubbub and bustle, workers put the ﬁnishing touches to the foyer under Tiﬀany and Tracy’s watchful eyes. With the two of them overseeing the work, no one dawdled overmuch. The spacious foyer was rapidly transformed into a glamorous nightclub for the fundraiser complete with its expansive bar, coat check, valet parking, dining tables, a dance ﬂoor and band stage.

Edward stood reminiscing on the stage of the cavernous theater. Earlier, a grand piano had be delivered and set on the main stage. The orchestra pit had been prepared for the musicians hired to accompany Katherine Delaﬁeld and his granddaughter Brooke. With only one chandelier turned on, the auditorium had an intimate ambiance. Edward found himself swaying and tapping his feet to the music playing.

The sound system was being tested and belting out the songs of classic crooners and divas from his youth and heyday. The superb acoustics made the music sound richer and deeper than he had ever heard it before. It felt as if Frank Sinatra was singing live on stage.

_She gets too hungry, for dinner at eight. She likes the theater, and never comes late. She'd never bother, with people she'd hate. That's why the lady is a tramp._

Monica came out from backstage. She smiled seeing Edward swaying to the music. She tapped him on the shoulder. “There you are, Edward.”

“Ah, taking a break from the hospital, Monica? You should. You’re hardly at the house anymore,” said Edward.

“Lots to do. There are only a few days left. Ticket demand has exploded.”

“As busy as we all are, we need to enjoy ourselves, too. Smell the roses." Edward had a bright idea. “May I have this dance?”

Monica laughed. “Yes, you may.” She slipped into his arms and they started an impromptu dance across the stage.

_She likes the free, free fresh wind in her hair. Life without care. She's broke, but it's o'k. She hates California, it's cold and it's damp. That's why the lady is a tramp._

“He got it from you,” said Monica softly.

“Got what, my dear?”

“Alan’s easy charm. I thought it was from Lila but it’s really from you.”

“There were times I thought you were too good for him. Did you know that?”

“We were good together.” Monica laid her head on Edward’s shoulder and lost herself in the music and memories.

_Won't have a dice game, with any barons or earls. She will never go to Harlem, dressed in ermine and pearls,  And she won't dish the dirt, with all the other girls. That's why the lady is a tramp._

In the large box stall on the right side, Anna paused in her inspection to watch Monica and Edward start to dance.

Anna quickly left the box and went backstage. She found Robert conferring with Lars on how best to disguise or outright hide the stairs and the door linking the theater and the radio station. Wordlessly, Anna took Robert by the hand and led him to the stage.

"Something going on?" asked Robert.

Anna stopped and placed a ﬁnger on his lips. She shook her head then continued leading him to the stage.

Robert’s ears perked up at the new song playing and he knew what Anna had in mind. Smoothly, he swept her into his arms and they waltzed on to the stage joining Edward and Monica.

 _I've got you under my skin._ _I've got you deep in the heart of me._ _So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me._ _I've got you under my skin._ _I'd tried so not to give in._ _I said to myself: this aﬀair never will go so well._ _But why should I try to resist when, baby, I know so well I've got you under my skin?_

The music played on. The dancers glided seamlessly around each other lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

The foyer doors opened wide admitting Sean and a tall, fresh-faced young man who gawked at the opulent stage before him.

“Look who I found outside,” Sean called out to Tiﬀany and Tracy.

Tracy ﬂew to her son’s side and embraced him. “Dillon, sweetheart! You made it in early just like you said.”

“Hi, Mom! This is ... this is incredible.” Dillon kissed his mother’s cheek dutifully. “This is for family. I’m not going to miss it.”

Tracy introduced Dillon formally to Sean and Tiﬀany. “This is my youngest son Dillon Quartermaine Hornsby. I dropped Paul and the Hornsby name and kept the son.”

“I remember you but you were the size of my forearm,” said Sean. “Good to meet you.”

“You too, Mr. Donely. I've heard a lot of stories about you and Robin's father and mother.”

"Everything you've heard is true," Tiﬀany said. "Those three got into so much trouble."

"She's exaggerating." Sean chuckled. "What do you think of the place? Good ﬁlm subject?" Dillon smiled.

“When Mom called me to come and do a documentary ﬁlm I didn’t have much hope for doing something really interesting but this ... this changes the picture.”

“Sweetie, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” Tiﬀany smiled and led them into the auditorium where they found the dancers oblivious to their presence.

Sean pressed a hand on Tiﬀany’s lower back and urged her further down the center aisle. He whispered in her ear. “They have the right idea.” The Donelys began to dance down the long aisle.

_When they begin the beguine it brings back the sound of music so tender. It brings back a night of tropical splendor It brings back a memory of green_

Gallantly, Dillon extended a hand to his mother. “My ballroom dancing is a little rusty, Mom.”

“So is mine. Let's give it a go anyway!” grinned Tracy.

Mother and son danced a little awkwardly at ﬁrst then got into the spirit of things. I'm with you once more under the stars and down by the shore an orchestras playing and even the palms seem to be swaying when they begin the beguine.

* * *

Bobbie held the foyer door open as Noah, Matt and Maxie carried in boxes stuﬀed with tickets, ﬂyers and other sundry items for the fundraiser. They came into a foyer empty save for a few workers setting up tables.

“Where is everybody?” asked Maxie. “Aunt Tiﬀany should be around here.”

“Wow! I can see why moving the fundraiser here was a good idea,” said Bobbie looking around.

“You don’t see too many of these grand ladies anymore,” noted Matt.

“Thanks, guys, for helping Maxie and me with these boxes. You don’t have to stay if you have to get back to the hospital.”

Noah peered at some of the vintage photos on the walls. “Oh, I think we can stay for a bit. Right, Matt.”

“Yeah, let’s go exploring.”

Hearing the music coming from the main auditorium, Maxie led them in. They were greeted cheerily by the dancers.

“Dillon! What are you doing here?!” exclaimed Maxie as Tracy and Dillon danced past.

“Came early,” Dillon replied.

“Hi, Bobbie, Noah!” called out Anna from the stage.

“This is the place to be. Come and join us,” said Robert invitingly as Nat King Cole's voice ﬁlled the auditorium.

_I say I'll move the mountains. And I'll move the mountains if she wants them out of the way. Crazy she calls me. Sure I'm crazy. Crazy in love I say._

“Ms. Jones, will you do me the honor of this dance?” asked Noah formally.

“I’ll make an exception for you,” giggled Bobbie and moved into Noah’s arms.

_I say I'll go Through ﬁre. And I'll go through ﬁre. As she wants it so it shall be. Crazy she calls me. Sure I'm crazy. Crazy in love you see._

“Matt, Maxie, don’t be such stick-in-the-muds. C'mon and dance!” exhorted Tiﬀany.

“We do look kinda stupid standing when everyone else is dancing,” said Maxie trying hard to look unaﬀected but failing. The music was calling to her romance-starved soul.

“It’s just a dance,” said Matt.

“We both need the practice.”

“Right.” Matt wound an arm around Maxie’s waist and they began to dance.

_Like the winds shakes the bows. She moves me with a smile. The diﬃcult I'll do right now. The impossible will take a little while I say I care forever. And I care forever. If I have to hold up the sky. Crazy she calls me. Sure I'm crazy. Crazy in love am I._

* * *

The PCPD 11:30 AM

District Attorney Alexis Davis riﬂed through the court documents as she waited for Mac to get oﬀ the phone in his oﬃce. Popular man, she thought. To her eye, Mac looked more alive and in command than she’d ever seen him. In fact, the morale of the police department was on the upswing. All the oﬃcers seemed to walk with an extra spring to their step these days.

Mac hung up the phone. “Ok, Alexis, what can I do for you?”

“Arraignment is set for all seven of the contraband suspects for three o’clock today. I’ve already talked with Captain Wells and Lieutenant Martinez. I wanted to go over some of the details with you verbally.”

Mac looked at his watch. “Can we do it after lunch?”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t we talk OVER lunch?” Alexis suggested.

“Ah, well, normally I would say yes but, uh, I’m meeting someone ... for lunch.” said Mac haltingly.

Alexis smirked. “A lunch DATE, I see.”

Mac ﬂushed a little looking like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Alexis realized just what Mac had really meant by having a lunch date.

“Well, Commissioner, you are certainly entitled to spend your lunch hour in any way you please.” said Alexis enjoying seeing Mac squirm. “Let’s reschedule for one today.”

“Make it one thirty. I don't like to rush through ... lunch.” Mac rose and jingled his car keys. “Will there be anything else, Alexis?”

“No, that’s it.” Alexis let herself be ushered out. She watched Mac leave. “When was the last time I had a two hour ... lunch? Too damn long ago.”

* * *

The Cottage 1 PM

Patrick spread the picnic blanket on the cottage’s ﬂoor. Robin popped open their wine.

“Bread, wine, cheese and you.” Robin murmured. “What could be better.”

“This was a very good idea, Mrs. Drake.”

“Thank you, Mr. Drake.” Robin kissed Patrick lingeringly and pulled away reluctantly. “Emma is in the best of hands with my brother and we can have some couple time. With the lab almost done, I know we’re not going to have as much time together.”

“And I’m covering for Samuels while he’s on vacation so my duty schedule is going to be intense. Before the craziness hits, let’s enjoy our unexpected interlude.”

“Let’s not talk about hospital work or ... or team work, okay?” asked Robin.

“Not a problem,” said Patrick slicing the french bread for both of them. “Let’s talk about my second favorite subject - us.”

Robin laughed. “Any special topic?”

“How much we’re going to enjoy watching Emma growing up and us growing old together.”

“I like that topic.”

Patrick reclined on the blanket his head on a pillow. “Watching you spar like that I got to thinking how little I know about you.”

“You know the important stuﬀ.” Robin lay crosswise to Patrick her head on his belly.

“I want to know the insigniﬁcant stuﬀ, too,” said Patrick. “Ever since your parents came back it’s almost like you’ve become an onion overnight.”

“What?!”

“An onion has layers and layers of skin before you get to the heart of the onion. Are you following me?”

“So far.” Robin took a sip of her wine.

“I know the heart of Robin but I didn’t know she had so many layers and facets that I didn’t know existed.”

Robin smiled. “A woman likes to have a little mystery to her especially a married one.”

“Can you let me in on the mystery a bit more?” asked Patrick. “I mean ﬁnding out that I’m married to a hog driving, lock picking, judo chopping graduate of the Emma Peel School of Spycraft is not something covered in the wedding vows.”

“Honey, it comes under the heading of for better or for worse.”

“Does it?”

“Uh, huh. Let me think what else you don’t know about me.” Robin thought for a minute. “I’ve gone bungee jumping and loved it. I went to camp regularly as a kid. I like to dance and I should do more of that nowadays. I won a writing contest when I was twelve. I almost went to a school dance dressed as a psychedelic neon lampshade. Thank god Sean and Frisco stopped me. I helped Nik with his speech therapy and have Helena Cassadine's undying gratitude for it. I’ve met a real, honest to goodness alien from the planet Lumina. I know the recipe for Scottish pizza. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been kidnapped or held hostage. I like -”

“Wait, back up. Alien from ... Lumina?” said Patrick. “I’m being serious here and you’re not.”

“I am. Really. My parents and Sean will back me up on this. I think even Andrew knows about it.” chortled Robin. “It happened like this ...”

Robin proceeded to tell Patrick about Casey, the crystal and the mysterious P.K. Sinclair.

* * *

Outside the Villa, Franjo “Frank” Curic parked to the side then cautiously entered the main entrance on foot. Maria had informed him of the Drakes leaving the hospital in well enough time for him to follow them here.

The gravel road leading in was free of snow. It seemed well traveled. In the distance he could make out two large barns. Was it an active farm, he thought.

He felt inside his jacket for the small vial. It was safe in his inside pocket. If he had the opportunity to administer the vial, he would take it, he decided.

A loud cough made Franjo whirl around suddenly. A few meters away a greybearded man dressed in thick coveralls and coat stood watching him. A large mastiﬀ sat at attention beside him.

“You’re on private property.” said the greybeard. “Are you lost?”

“Uh, no. My mistake. I was looking for a place to ... to go hiking.” Franjo turned again at the deep growling sound of motorized vehicles coming close. To his left and right two men on expensive top of the line all terrain vehicles came out from behind the tree line. Franjo realized too late that he was surrounded.

“A problem here, Simms?” asked one man on the ATV.

“Just a hiker. He says.” answered Simms, the greybeard.

“I thought there was a ... a hiking trail here.” Subconsciously, Franjo's hand moved to his coat pocket and he grasped his Beretta pistol. “I’ll just be leaving.”

Franjo turned around and calmly began to walk back the way he had come in. He could feel three sets of eyes boring through his back every step of the way. He felt the rush of adrenalin ﬂooding his system but he had to remain calm. Any sudden movements from him and he had no doubts that he would feel three bullets in his back. Franjo had seen and recognized the stock of military grade riﬂes tucked into the ATV’s back. These men, whoever they were, were not amateurs.

Simms watched Franjo disappear down the path. “Good work, Campbell. He almost jumped out of his pants when he saw you coming.”

“Aye, team leader. That was fun.” replied Campbell taking oﬀ his mirrored lenses revealing a very boyish face.

“Well, that man was no hiker. Take what snaps you’ve got and process them. Scorpio will want an ID.”

* * *

The Aphrodite docked at the Port Charles marina 5 PM

Arielle Ashton poured a drink for herself and her brother Etienne. He sat relaxing on the couch.

“How was your business trip? Did it go well?” she asked.

“Exceedingly. I met with our client and I’ve given the details to Franjo.”

“Very good. How did Charlotte look?”

“Well enough. She gives you her good wishes, of course. She seems to have fully recovered from her ... enforced vacation,” said Etienne.

“Wonderful. She never belonged there. When I think about it my blood boils.” Arielle gave Etienne his drink and sat opposite him on the couch. “Such a gracious woman. If she had not welcomed us with open arms when Uncle was ... was arrested, where would we have gone to? We owe her so much.”

“We do and more. She’s like our second mother, isn’t she?”

“Hmm, yes. I like to think so.” Arielle took a drink. “How are we doing on our plans?”

“I have instructed Franjo to continue with the ﬁrst project. In fact, he will have completed it any day now.”

“Good,” Arielle said without a tone of regret in her voice. “And the arms deal?” “I’m expecting a call from Rosales within the next few days. I’m meeting with the Alcazar contact tomorrow to ﬁnalize the details of the meeting place and the transaction.”

“You will be careful, Etienne. You’re the only family I have left.” This time Arielle’s voice was sincerely concerned.

“You have Ashton,” teased Etienne.

“Pah! All he truly cares about is his precious Neddy boy and leaving him the inheritance and legacy that he should have had as Lord Ashton.” Arielle laid back into the sofa disgusted. "I can't believe I've stayed married to him all this time."

“I actually respect him for that, Arielle. Every person should have an unswerving goal. Because of that goal, he’s become a canny survivor. It amazes me how many times he has slid by unnoticed when better men and women than him have been caught out.”

Arielle laughed. “Please do not think he has magic powers. He doesn’t. He has quick wits, ambition and charm. That is all.”

“He continues to be useful to us. That is what is important,” said Etienne. “What will you tell him about our ... progress?

“Why nothing, nothing at all. He requested that we hold oﬀ on any plans regarding the Scorpios didn’t he? He’s better left in ignorance. He can do nothing once the assignment is completed.”

“As you wish, Arielle. You know how to handle him best.”

“I do, unfortunately.”

Etienne laughed heartily. “Just lie beneath him and think about owning all the Cartel subsidiaries once he’s dead.”

“It’s the only thing that carries me through each day with Ashton. Believe me,” replied Arielle coldly.

* * *

Villa Scorpio 9 PM

Anna knocked on Jacques’ suite in the Barn. A low ‘Enter’ came from inside.

“There you are, Anna,” said Jacques.

“Robert said you wanted to see me,” said Anna entering the spacious sitting room.

“There is a favor I would like to ask of you, if I may.”

“You can ask anything of me. You know that.”

Jacques picked up a small case lying on the table and gave it to Anna. “Open it.” Anna gasped as she saw the sparkling set of Cassadine family jewels.

“I want you to wear the full set at the fundraiser,” said Jacques.

“I can’t. This is too much.”

“Oh, but you can and you shall. I have secured Robert’s cooperation.”

Anna narrowed her eyes at Jacques. “Is this part of the secret mission you two were on the other day?”

“A part yes,” Jacques smiled. “Andre informs me that Helena is on her way to Port Charles. In all likelihood, she shall be at the fundraiser as we will be.”

“She ... she’ll have a ﬁt if she sees me wearing this.”

“That is the plan,” said Jacques. “I have waited a lifetime to see her face as she beholds the set. What was lost is found at last. I want to savor her reaction. Will you wear it for me?”

Anna nodded. “I will. There’s more behind this for you, isn’t there, Jacques?”

“Very old family business, Anna. I had never thought that satisfaction could be within my grasp in my lifetime. Now that such is so close I ﬁnd the anticipation as keenly as a knife’s edge pressed against my palm.” Jacques smiled again at the curiosity he saw burning in Anna’s eyes yet went unspoken upon her lips. “I promise I shall tell you about it before the fundraiser. I want you well prepared to trade barbs with Helena.”

“You expect her to lose control? In public?”

“Hardly. She’s too well bred for that. However, I predict, her tongue shall be bathed in acid and malice shall pour from her eyes once she sees that set. I wish you to be well armed in that event. It promises to be a very good show.”

“You won’t confront her yourself? I sense that you know her better than you’ve let on.”

“Our contretemps began a long time ago. I lost much ... honor and personal happiness because of the Cassadines. Revenge, yes, I admit to it, shall be bitter, but at this point in my life, I have little left to accomplish save this.”

“I understand revenge well enough,” said Anna. “It can consume you until you can’t think of anything else or anyone.”

“You understand. Good,” said Jacques. “I must tell you that I have taken the liberty of letting certain of the old families know that the set has been found. I expect at least one of them to attend the fundraiser for the purposes of veriﬁcation and conﬁrmation of its legitimacy. His name is Thanos D'Ercy. He will be a valuable ally I'm certain of it.”

“And Helena knows nothing of what is to come or of your guest?”

“None at all. She is rarely taken entirely by surprise. It is yet one more thing to look forward to,” said Jacques. “Take it with you, dear Anna. I shall dream good dreams tonight.”

* * *

The Weltonby Penitentiary

Alex stared at the monitor again. Rage and shame simmered inside her though her cool demeanor changed little. Her husband Dimitri Marick watched her and worried. He could sense the inner tension she refused to release or share. Alex was Alex and he had to let her deal with this new problem in her own way.

Warden Reginald Pooley came bustling in a document in had. “Now, Dr. Marick, here is your transcribed statement. If you will sign there and there.” He pointed to a series of signature lines on the document. “I will ﬁle them with the Yard immediately.”

Alex signed her name twice gripping the pen with extreme pressure. “You must make certain that no one knows that we have uncovered this deception. The prisoner especially must not know.”

“I understand. The Yard will be sending Inspector Ainsley tomorrow to continue the investigation on this end. I can assure you that no one will be the wiser.” said Warden Pooley. “We will be moving the prisoner to a new set of quarters where her movements can be better watched. Though this switch happened during my predecessor’s term, I am equally guilty and want to set this to rights.”

“Thank you, Warden.” Alex shook his hand. “My husband and I will be headed to my sister’s in Port Charles New York. I’ll contact you for further information once we’re there.”

Alex and Dimitri exited the penitentiary via an exit unseen by the prison population or staﬀ. Soon they were aboard their plane headed across the Atlantic.

Dimitri put an arm around his wife. Her shoulders drooped and she lay her head on his shoulder. Words tumbled out of her like rapids down a fast moving river. “She’s out, Dimitri. What kind of trouble has she started now? What am I going to tell Anna? Oh, and Andrew, how can I tell him about what they did to Faison? Should I show him the ﬁles? He will want revenge. Anna won’t let him take a fall like that. And, if anything happens to Emma, oh my god. Anna will murder Charlotte herself. This is all my fault. I have to take care of it.”

“Shhhh. We’re going to help in every way we can, sweetheart, but no one is going to commit murder, if it can be helped.” Dimitri stroked her arm. “Get some rest. Knowing you, you’re going to want to hit the ground running when we get there.”


	9. AKA Leo Jarvil

Tuesday, January 6, 2009 Villa Scorpio 3AM

Her dreaming hands sought his presence and found it absent. The sheet was cool and the pillow undisturbed. A query yielded no response. “Robert?”

Feeling decidedly unsettled, Anna rose, donned her robe and went in search of her prodigal partner. She found him lying on the sofa in his lamp lit study wide awake and studying the ceiling. He seemed drained and oddly diminished. “Robert, what’s wrong?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” replied Robert.

“That’s obvious. What is less obvious is what’s happened to put you in this state.”

Robert sighed. “My album on the desk there. The pictures on the open page. Look at it.”

Anna went to the desk and sat down. Robert’s album was open to a page full of photos of people Anna didn’t know. The dates on the pictures told her they had been taken in late 1995 and 1996. At ﬁrst glance, she could not tell if Robert was in the pictures. Anna turned the lamp to a brighter setting. She looked again.

There. Robert was in every one but not the Robert she knew. His hair was dark, thick and unruly. Often, his eyes were obscured by oval amber sunglasses while his chin and jaw was disguised by a scruﬀy beard. In a few pictures, Robert stood or sat with a group of equally scruﬀy and rough-looking men. The riﬂes and handguns they held and the military style fatigues they wore left no doubt in her mind that these pictures were taken during Robert’s covert operation years. In one or two pictures, Robert eschewed the sunglasses and posed with a brown-haired woman of petite build with gentle eyes and a kind smile. She had an arm wound possessively around Robert’s waist.

“Who was she, Robert?” she asked. There was no note of accusation in her tone only a question.

“Her name was Therese.”

“Was?”

“Was.”

Anna sat down on the edge of the sofa. Perhaps, it was in his tone of voice or his choice of words, but, instinctively, she knew not to touch him or oﬀer him comfort. Not yet. “Tell me about her, Robert.”

“Today would have been her fortieth birthday. No one ... no one would have celebrated her birthday more ... enthusiastically than Therese. In a war zone, no one expects to live very long.”

“The Balkans? Which side?” Anna had deduced much from the lettering and unit patches on the uniforms in the photos.

“Therese was a teacher by education but a Croatian freedom ﬁghter in her heart of hearts.” Robert sighed. “She couldn’t target the side of a barn but she’d be the ﬁrst to bandage the wounded or to run diversions when needed. She was an avowed coward but, if you needed her to do something, she’d just nod once and get to it. And, she would do it ﬂawlessly.”

“What happened to her, the two of you?”

Robert continued talking as if he hadn’t heard her question. “We’re trained to be master manipulators. We’ve been in the game so long that we don’t think of what we do or why, we just do it. If our scruples bother us, well, we just convince ourselves that it’s the job and not us. Never us. Never our fault. That’s why we’re taught to treat our job like a game with winners and losers. If there are only winners and losers, then there are no innocent victims, no collateral damage to speak of.”

“It was our job. They had their job, too,” said Anna. "We all do distasteful even horrendous things to reach our goals or to survive."

“It was all right when it was the professionals, WSB versus DVX, winners and losers. But the Balkans, Anna, it was ... it was hate, pure irrational hate. There were no winners or losers. Everyone was a victim. I trained and molded these same victims to become killers. That was my job.”

“That was a diﬀerent person,” Anna said. "We adopt personas to distance our real selves from the things we're sometimes forced to do. That wasn't you."

“That’s no excuse. Under the disguise, it was still me,” said Robert. “It may have been my job to complete my mission but it was me who used her. When I realized her aﬀections for me, I didn’t hesitate to take advantage of it to ... to worm my way deeper into the organization. When I dined with her family, it was still me that they grew to accept as one of their own. When I lay with her, it wasn’t her I was loving but you. I used her in the worst possible way.”

"Sometimes it helps to remember only the good and not the bad," said Anna. "And it couldn't have been one-sided, Robert. You're not that kind of man whatever the cover."

"Her brother, Franjo, was the stoic pessimist. Therese was the vocal optimist. You couldn't feel gloomy around her. She wouldn't let you." Robert said. "If I'm honest with myself, I have to say that Therese helped me come back to life. Helped me remember what aﬀection was, tenderness, that need for a human connection. Or what it felt like to lie on the grass, look up at the sky and see clouds instead of storm clouds or ﬂying bullets. Without her, I would have become a brutal pig, Anna. I hope I gave her some joy in return for what she gave to me."

“What happened to Therese?” asked Anna softly.

“I had developed a reputation in the area and I had enemies. I was supposed to cross enemy territory and deliver something. I forget what. At the last minute, I fell very ill and couldn’t do it. I was told later that Therese took my place. If I had known, I would have never-” Robert swallowed. “She delivered the item and was on her way back when she was caught. We were later told that Therese committed suicide rather than be interrogated and raped.”

Anna's eyes were moist. “You couldn’t have known the outcome.”

"She deserved life. She should have had a husband who adored her. Children to love unconditionally. Years of celebrations and traditions," Robert said. "Even in death, I used her. The timing of her death ﬁt with the schedule for my extraction so the WSB decreed. Therese Curic lost her life allowing the grief-stricken terrorist leader Leo Jarvil to conveniently disappear. A month later, her family was told that Jarvil died in a failed raid in Serbian territory. Jarvil died a hero in their eyes. Months later, WSB covert operative Robert Scorpio came back in from the cold. Life can be so twisted.”

“Robert, you can’t change the past. What’s done is done.”

“Where is the justice for Therese, for her sacriﬁces? Or the justice for the ones I killed, the ones killed by my students? Hmm?” Robert rose to his feet and began to pace. “By their deaths, I live. They’re just statistics in history books now. How many even had a decent burial, an acknowledgment that they existed. There are times like tonight that I want to make sense of things, to make their deaths have meaning. How do I do that, Anna? Tell me!”

Anna stood and faced him. She grasped both his hands. “I understand, Robert. This is why shutting down D99 is so important to you.”

Robert nodded. “Outﬁts like D99 hire their experts out for money. They exploit people and manipulate situations to their advantage. They couldn’t give a ﬁg about the people they were training and ﬁghting alongside of. They have no scruples, no rules to the game. Even with the evidence I collected, the WSB couldn’t shut D99 down. But we have the chance to cut its head oﬀ once and for all. There is no room for failure. Not in this, Anna.”

“I agree completely. We have a good shot at taking them down and we’re going to use everything we’ve got. You know we will,” said Anna. “But will that be the right ... way to remember Therese and the others? The violence that ended her life honors her death?”

“I can’t think of a better way,” admitted Robert.

Anna looked Robert straight in the eye. “in the past, I’ve found that turning a negative into a positive is the best way for me to deal with survivor’s guilt. We can’t change the past but we can try to make the future a little better.”

“And how do I do that?” asked Robert. “I’ve given to Doctors Without Borders, to the International Red Cross. I worked for the World Health Organization. I don’t feel that’s enough. It will never be enough.”

“Therese was a teacher, right? Why not establish a scholarship or an endowment in her name at Port Charles University? To be granted to those who are studying to become future teachers. In some small but very tangible way, the dream that she couldn’t have will live on in others.”

“You would have liked Therese and she you.” Robert pulled Anna close. “Scholarships. She would have wanted that. I’ll start on it ﬁrst thing.”

“Not before you get a few hours of sleep,” advised Anna.

Later, she stayed up long after he had fallen asleep. It was a habit by now. She held him. “Don’t shut me out, please,” she whispered. “I’m here. Don’t ever forget that.”

The old Robert was a fairly uncomplicated even predictable man. The years had added more layers to his personality. Layers that she was only now beginning to decipher. She knew the old Robert better than she knew herself. Now, she wasn't so sure. How would he react if he ever found out about the compromises she had had to make? Could he forgive her when she was forced to choose?

* * *

On the Nereo sometime in 1992

A squall had caused them to reduce speed but they had stayed on course for the Azores. As if the gods were against them, a sudden engine malfunction forced them to reverse course. Nine o'clock in the evening and they were limping their way back to the nearest marina for much needed repairs.

In her room, Anna counted the number of small notches she had made inside the drawer of her bedside cabinet. With it, she knew that it had been almost sixteen days since her last check up. More than two weeks since her last message to Paris. She had to send another one before her trail got cold. One thing was in her way.

Faison had been adamant about returning to Europe. This ﬁxation had made it impossible for her to convince him to make one more doctor's visit at their last port of call. She had previously managed a check up every ten days.

"You may not get another chance," Anna whispered to herself as she brushed her hair. "Do something."

The sensation of nausea took her by surprise. She barely made it to the lavatory. As she cleaned herself, an idea began to form. She turned on the tub faucet and prepared for a hot bubble bath.

In a terry cloth robe and with her hair encased in a towel, Anna sauntered into the salon. To her surprise, Faison was nowhere to be seen. On a hunch, she knocked on his suite.

"Cesar? Are you in there?" Anna called out.

A haggard Faison with bloodshot eyes opened the door. His suite reeked of his foul cigarettes. Anna nearly gagged. "Yes, Anna? What is it?"

"I'm feeling a little lightheaded. Could you help me with something?"

"I thought you would be sleeping by now. You exercised on deck earlier. You must be tired."

"I am but my body is aching. I can't seem to relax and sleep." Anna said. "But there is one thing that has always soothed me. A hot bath."

Faison disappeared into his room then a few minutes later emerged ﬂipping through a pregnancy guide book. "It says here that ... that hot baths are not recommended. You should take a shower."

"I took baths when I was carrying Robin. It's ﬁne as long as I keep the water temperature close to my own body temperature."

"I suppose. But let me check the water temperature."

"You don't have to do that. Really. I need you to do something else."

"What is that?" "I've been having some dizzy spells. They just come to me without warning. I would like your ... assistance in case I have a spell while I'm in my bath."

"Of course, Anna. Will your bath take long?"

"A half hour. You do look tired."

"I had many phone calls to make. Arrangements to see to."

"I'll go ask one of the crew. Rafael, maybe. He's nice."

"No," Faison said ﬁrmly. "Let me have some coﬀee and I shall be more than glad to help you. Call me when you need me."

A few minutes later, Anna stood poised on the edge of the tub which was ﬁlled with frothy bubbles. She called out. "Cesar?!"

He arrived in seconds. The coﬀee seemed to have done its job. His eyes were bright, his hair combed and he had a fresh dressing gown on. "What do you want me to do?"

"Could you hold my hand as I get in the tub?" Anna held out her hand.

"Of course." Faison took her hand and waited expectantly.

Anna ﬂushed. "Turn around ﬁrst."

"Do I have to?" Faison's eyes traveled up and down her body. Was that a gleam of anticipation in his eyes?

"A gentleman would. Please, Cesar," Anna said sweetly and drawing out the syllables of his ﬁrst name.

He kept her hand in his and turned away.

"No peeking."

"I am, as you say, a gentleman." Faison's ears strained to hear the littlest sounds as a vision formed in his mind.

The soft swish of clothing as Anna disrobed. The ripple of the water as she stepped into the tub. The sloshing of water against bare skin as Anna made herself comfortable in the tub.

"You can let go of my hand now."

"If I must." Faison loosened his grip. "May I peek?"

"There's nothing to see except a pregnant woman." Anna leaned back savoring the warmth enveloping her body. She breathed in the rose scent of her bath. The bubbles covered most of her body. She could feel Faison's presence behind her.

Faison stayed standing just inside the room. He watched her every move. "I see a woman as she was meant to be."

"You may need glasses," Anna said.

"An expectant mother is a sight to behold. You are magniﬁcent."

Faison asked a question that had just come to him. "I would make a good husband, don't you think?"

"You have many admirable qualities," Anna said languidly as she ran a washcloth over her glistening arms and shoulders. "Some woman will be very lucky one day."

"There is no other woman for me but you," Faison said. "How could you doubt my devotion?"

"Why settle for an old decrepit model when you can have a fresh, nubile young thing on your arm and in your bed?"

Faison's eyes missed nothing. "If sex was all I wanted, any empty-headed woman would do."

Anna loosed the towel around her head. Her hair fell in a dark cascade. Faison's hand formed a ﬁst at his side. "What do you want then?"

"You in my life. That is what I want." His voice was slightly hoarse. "I need nothing else."

"You may need nothing but I need some new clothes. My waistline is disappearing." Anna said rubbing her knee and calf with the cloth. She avoided touching the tracking bracelet which was obviously waterproof.

"What? I didn't hear what you said." said Faison.

"Have you not wondered why I've been in my robe most days?" asked Anna. "It's because my current clothes don't ﬁt. They're too tight. Oh, I hate saying that."

"I thought I had gotten you some new clothes at our last stop."

"You did but they no longer ﬁt me and there are other items I'll need." Anna looked around and looked at Faison.

"Give me a list and--" Faison began to say.

"Intimate things. Bras and things." Anna said. "And shoes. My breasts and feet are getting bigger."

Faison blinked a few times as if trying to clear his inner vision. "Really?"

"It's a natural part of pregnancy. No need to be shy about it."

"I would prefer that you stayed on the boat for your own safety." said Faison eagerly. "I have a tape measure. We can take measurements tomorrow morning. I'll shop for your things once we land."

"No purples or reds this time."

"Red is so ... so striking against your skin." Faison noted.

"I don't like it. Pink would be accept- ooh!" Anna put a hand to her head. She groaned.

Faison was instantly solicitous. "What's wrong, Anna?"

"D-d-dizzy. Headache." Anna said. "I need to ... to lie down."

Without warning, Anna stood up in the bathtub bubbles sliding down her nude form. She swayed dramatically. Her hand grabbed at empty air seeking something to hold. Her ﬁngers found a towel. She covered herself with it.

But Faison had seen far more than he had ever hoped to see. He had watched her sleep once and all too brieﬂy. Those images had replayed in his mind for a long time. Now, he had better images to dream about.

"My head!" Anna cried rubbing her left temple.

Faison was galvanized into action. He took her hand and helped her out of the tub. Anna made straight for her bed.

"My head feels likes it's splitting open. I never felt like this with Robin." Anna drew the covers over her still wet body. "I feel so dizzy."

"You have been taking your medication, yes?"

"Religiously."

Faison began to pace in front of her bed. "You have been exercising and eating well. Is it your blood pressure?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Anna said. "The doctor said my iron deﬁciency had to be closely watched, didn't he?"

Faison snapped his ﬁngers and slammed a palm against his forehead. "Dummkopf! We are supposed to have regular blood tests."

"Is that it?" Anna let out a soft moan.

"I will make an appointment tomorrow for us."

"Cesar, I feel so ill. I don't know if I can make it."

"Do not worry, Anna. I shall use a wheelchair." Cesar placed a kiss on Anna's forehead. "Rest now. Relax. I will take care of all the details."

"Thank you, Cesar."


	10. A Little Thing Called Luck

General Hospital 9 AM

Bobbie and a few volunteers were ﬁnishing up some last minute items when Robin swept in and took possession of the new laboratory. Behind her Nestor and Genji wearing gray and blue workmen’s overalls carried in ladders and toolboxes. Monica trailed them inside.

“Morning, Bobbie!” said Robin.

“Hey! Looks like you brought in extra help,” said Bobbie.

“They’re just going to install some computers, cameras and other security stuﬀ,” said Robin reasonably.

Monica came up behind her and put an arm around Robin’s shoulder. “World class research has world class rules, Bobbie. How are the lab technician screenings coming?”

“Pretty good. I have a stack of applications that have cleared referral and education checks. When do you want to start interviewing?” asked Bobbie.

“Hmm, let’s start scheduling interviews this Friday,” said Monica. “Our goal is full staﬃng by the end of next week.”

Robin listened with only half an ear on Bobbie and Monica’s conversation while she sketched the lab’s layout adding where key pieces of equipment were located. She ﬂipped through her clipboard’s stack of forms. She had conﬁrmed the inventory of chemicals and other lab equipment that had arrived. Due to the nature of her research, many of the chemicals she intended to use were classiﬁed as highly restrictive for general use. A locked cabinet was set up just for their storage.

Two hours later, the lab was newly secured with a keypad lock. Mounted cameras kept surveillance from multiple angles. Several hidden panic buttons had been placed. And, lastly, two computers had been installed with a direct link to Andrew’s computer net. This would allow for the fastest communication in the event of an emergency. It would also allow the team to discreetly monitor Robin’s interactions with the Foundation’s own systems.

It was the best security that could be provided. Anyone who managed to circumvent it would have to be very skilled or very lucky.

* * *

Zekkers Bakery 10AM

Maria Ormez drew her hat lower over her face. Dressed in a print hoodie and jeans, she seemed like any other twenty-something having a casual meal. Sitting by the window, her eyes gazed at the activity across the street at the Majestic megaplex. Coﬀee and a croissant sat barely eaten in front of her.

A well-dressed heavyset man came in and placed an order. The counter help knew him and greeted him by name.

“Guten morgen, Hans,” said Carl Zekker. “Your usual? We have freshly made hot soup."

“I will have the soup also. Have you ﬁnished moving?” asked Hans also in German.

“By Thursday we will no longer be here but across the street.”

“It must be much nicer.”

“It is. And better for business.”

“The owners are friends of yours, yes?” asked Hans.

“Without the help of Sean Donely I would not be here today.”

“One should not forget old friends.” grinned Hans. He took his order and walked to a table next to Maria. On cue, Maria dropped her napkin and Hans picked it up. “You dropped this, miss.”

“I did? Thank you.” Under the guise of the napkin exchange, Maria slipped a small plastic packet to Hans. She whispered. “That’s as much of Compound X as I dare give you.”

“There is more?”

“Frank gave me half of one vial. You have half of that half.”

“I see. When will you complete ... delivery?”

“I have been ordered to deliver as soon as I see an opportunity.”

“The mother or the child?”

“The mother ... and then we take the child.”

“What?!” Han’s head shot up.

“Those are our orders.” Maria sat up and began to eat her breakfast.

Hans sliced his baguette. “If the child is taken, the situation will ... will go very bad for you.”

“I know," Maria said. "Can you pull me out?”

“If you do not take the child, yes I can. If you are linked to that kidnapping, you will have no peace until you are dead,” said Hans under his breath. “And I can do nothing for you.”

“What should I do?”

“Make the delivery. As soon as you can, you must disassociate yourself from them. Come to me at the travel agency.” Hans subconsciously patted his pocket where he had slipped the packet into. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Maria rose to leave. “Thank you.”

Hans ﬁnished his meal quickly. He had many things to do today. Not the least of which was to ﬁnd some way to keep Andrew away from his sister and niece for the next few days.

Hans’ eyes drifted to the DigiMaze store. Andrew was inside and so was little Emma Drake. Considering that he was now the au pair parting him from the child would be challenging. Hans was certain that Sean had added his own people to the shopping complex's security. Canny of Robert Scorpio to know that the child was safest with his son, he thought.

He had to return to the agency and make some calls. Scorpio, Devane and Donely, he snorted, it was almost like the old days. Almost.

* * *

Crimson Oﬃces 11:30 AM

“Good morning, y’all!” cried Tiﬀany coming into the Crimson magazines oﬃces large manila envelope in hand with Anna trailing in her wake. “Maxie, here are the promo pictures and negatives for the fundraiser.”

“Goodie. Let’s see it.” Maxie took the envelope and began to lay out the color negatives on the light board. There were pictures of the theater but also of the bachelors and the donated items to be auctioned.

“Anna, have you met Lulu Spencer?” asked Tiﬀany ready to do the introductions.

“We met in the Markham Islands a few years ago,” said Anna.

“It was a vivid ﬁrst impression,” added Lulu.

Tiﬀany raised a brow questioningly. “I sense a story.”

“It was the ﬁrst time since ... the boat explosion that I had seen Robert,” explained Anna. “First time that I knew he WAS alive.”

“After the amnesia and all that?”

Anna nodded. “Suﬃce it to say I was spoiling for a ﬁght. To make matters more interesting Robin, Lulu, Tracy, Dillon and Holly were already there.”

“Holly? Our Holly?”

“The one and only.”

“Awkward and potentially so tacky,” said Tiﬀany.

“Understatement of the century.”

“So? Dish!” demanded Tiﬀany completely forgetting where they were.

“There are children present,” grinned Anna.

Tiﬀany was on a roll. “I want to know EVERY juicy little detail. Did you and Robert patch things up then? That must have been some reunion.”

“Tiﬀany! We did NOT jump into bed at ﬁrst glance.”

“Why not?! If it were me and Sean, I would have been all over that man like white on rice. I KNOW you’re as red-blooded as I am.”

Lulu and Maxie stared at their godmothers as if they were aliens from another planet.

“That is hardly the point. There was more than a decade of ... of distance between us,” said Anna.

“Distance, shmishtance. Later over drinks? Dish, pretty please?” asked Tiﬀany.

“Maybe. All right,” agreed Anna. “After dinner tonight. Alex and Dimitri will be joining us.”

“I still can’t believe you have a sister and a twin at that,” said Tiﬀany.

Maxie looked up from her work. “You have a twin?”

“Uh, huh, identical,” said Anna. “Doctor Alexandra Devane Marick.”

“Interesting,” said Lulu mentally ﬁling away that little tidbit of information.

“Back to business. Laura trusted me to be your godmother, Lulu, and I haven’t been much of one,” said Tiﬀany. “I owe you a gazillion years of lunches and conﬁdences. So we’re inviting you two to a godmother and goddaughter lunch today.”

“In fact, we’re not taking no for an answer,” added Anna. “Get your things and let’s go.”

“Free nosh. I'm in. Where are we going?” asked Lulu.

“Chez Lola at the Megaplex. It’s open for lunch now. Dinner service should start later this week.”

Tiﬀany took a hold of Maxie and guided her towards the door. “Come on. Given a choice between work and discussing life, men, love and fashion, what would you choose?”

* * *

WKPC Radio Station Writers Room 1:30 PM

Dianara, Sam and Robert consulted with Andre on the large screen monitor. Sean was talking intently on the phone.

“We’re certain that Rosales has agreed to the deal. We know that the ship Arcturus is carrying the shipment in from Brazil. As to the when and where of the transaction, who knows?” asked Andre. “We have conﬁrmed that Rosales is doing the deal himself. He’s booked to leave Sao Paulo early tomorrow morning.”

“So the deal should go down sometime tomorrow or the next day. They won’t delay very long,” said Sam.

“Now is the time to sound out some old informers,” said Robert.

“When is the Arcturus scheduled to dock?” asked Dianara. “Do we know?”

Sean hung up the phone. “The harbormaster conﬁrms that the Arcturus is scheduled to come in very late tonight.”

“Good time to oﬄoad cargo with no one about,” said Sam. “And before customs agents inspect the cargo and manifest.”

“What surveillance can be put on the ship once it docks? If I could, I would use my agents but I can’t without arousing more suspicion,” said Dianara.

“I’ll put some plainclothes on it,” said Sam. “If we only knew which warehouse it would make a lot of this easier.”

“There are too many down there to canvas each of them in twenty four hours,” said Robert ruefully. “Andre, what about the shipment itself, what’s in it?”

“The shipment comes on two pallets. The ﬁrst has semi-automatic pistols and fully automatic assault riﬂes. And the second part has grenades, grenade launchers, gun parts, silencers, scopes and ammunition. Both pallets weighed in around three hundred pounds each.”

“All that for the NYC conference?” asked Robert doubtfully. “Sounds like the beginnings of an armory.”

“If D99 is planning to activate a sleeper network then providing them with untraceable equipment is the ﬁrst thing to do,” said Sean. “It’s what I would do.”

“The conference attack is just the ﬁrst event, then?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. That’s the assumption we have to go on,” said Robert. “The key is getting our hands on that shipment. If we let it slip through, god only knows, where the guns will end up.”

“Playing devils advocate here. The best time to oﬄoad is tonight then stash it away for safekeeping. But, to me, the best time for the sale transaction is on the night of the fundraiser,” said Dianara. “The PCPD will be stretched out providing security for Katherine Delaﬁeld’s party, security onsite and general policing duties that night.”

“And if they are going to be using Alcazar’s old network, then they’ll have a good knowledge of local law enforcement - patterns, schedules, events,” said Sean. “I agree with Dianara. That’s the best night for ﬁnal delivery. Most of us will be at the fundraiser.”

Robert was thoughtful. “Maybe and maybe not.”

“Meaning?” asked Sean.

“I have a plan.”

“Should I be worried? Update my will perhaps?”

“If everything goes to plan, no one will know you’re involved or any of us for that matter,” said Robert.

Tiﬀany and Anna came into the room. Tiﬀany perched on the arm of Sean’s chair while Anna slipped in next to Robert on the couch.

“What plan? Why does Sean look worried?” asked Anna. "I don't like that look in your eyes, Robert."

Robert laughed. “Remember, luv, we talked about keeping our ﬁngerprints oﬀ this caper as much as possible?”

“Yes. We're supposed to be retired after all. Bad enough we’re still news in this town.”

“My plan will accomplish several objectives: get the shipment out of circulation, keep our involvement to the minimum, and, just maybe, mop up more of the network in the long run.”

“Sounds ambitious,” said Tiﬀany.

“And complex,” said Sean.

“Not at all, children,” Robert laid back on the couch. “It’s very simple. No arrests will be made. No fake deaths or-”

“We can’t let them get away!” cried Sam.

“Sure we can, Sam,” said Robert.

"You can be so impossible when you get like this," Anna commented. "What are you thinking of doing?"

“Boys and girls, we are going to steal the shipment and let Rosales believe that Gastineau double-crossed him. Let the chips fall where they may then.”

“They’ll turn on each other,” said Sean with a devious smile. “With possibly lethal results. I like it."

In a very matter of fact tone, Anna said, “Let me get this straight, Robert. You want to run a con job against an international arms dealer and a world-class terrorist leader with us pulling the strings behind the scenes?”

“Can’t put anything by my Annie.” Robert winked at her. "And without them knowing we're involved."

“On the night of the fundraiser. Two days from today,” added Anna.

“We’re experienced multi-taskers aren’t we?”

“When we’re going to be unsettling one party with the Cassadine jewels and Andrew’s debut?”

“Yup. Why settle for one target when we can hit multiple targets at one time,” said Robert gleefully.

"Robert, all our targets will be moving ones. The odds of us being successful against all of them in one period of time is ... I can't even give you odds."

“But, Anna, you gave me the idea.”

“Me?” asked Anna ﬂummoxed.

“The fundraiser is at a theater. What’s theater but smoke and mirrors, trapdoors, lighting, special eﬀects and a cast of hundreds? And, what’s a better mirror than your own identical twin?”

“Is this going to be a con job or are we going to be gas lighting someone because that’s what it sounds like to me.”

“Maybe a little of both.” Robert looked at Andre. “Andre, why don’t you tell Anna what the little bird told you.”

Andre grinned. “Charlotte Devane will be a special guest of Helena’s. In disguise and an assumed name but it will be her.”

“This is too good. Are you absolutely, utterly sure, Andre?” asked Anna.

“Conﬁrmed.”

“So, team leader, is it a yay or nay on my plan?” asked Robert.

“It’s a yay. If only to see if we can really pull this oﬀ,” said Anna. “My god! We only have two days.”

“Ye of little faith,” said Robert.

“What are we going to need besides a small army?” asked Sean.

“We need a little lady called Luck and a really big net,” answered Robert with the unmistakeable gleam of anticipation in his eyes.


	11. Wanting What Was Lost

Tuesday, January 6, 2009 Metro Court Hotel suite 3 PM

The phone receiver was gripped tightly. So tightly, in fact, that the holder’s knuckles were white.

“What happened to those 100 shares due to me today?” Whatever was said on the other end of the line did not please Arielle Ashton. “Fine. Mistakes happen. Do not let this happen again. In future, you shall make sure that the shares are sold only to me and no one else.” Arielle slammed the phone down.

“Something the matter, darling?” asked Larry Ashton coming into the suite with Etienne behind him.

“Just ... just incompetent people,” said Arielle. “Were you gentlemen able to catch up with business?”

“Very well. Larry, has secured more conference sponsorships than I had expected,” said Etienne.

Larry Ashton poured himself a drink. “I have questions about the looming transaction.”

“What questions?”

“I’m worried that we do not have our own men attending the transaction,” said Ashton. “How could one or two hurt?”

“The Alcazar representative wants proof of our trust. He asked that only I attend and I see no problem with that,” said Etienne conﬁdently. “A man of Rosales’ reputation will not be careless. I know that much.”

“And the warehouse? That will be secure?”

“Yes. I rented the space yesterday. Very out of the way and far removed from the docks,” said Etienne.

“We remain undecided on distribution, yes?” asked Arielle.

“Our agents are scattered throughout the country. My original idea of using couriers to deliver the gear to our agents will not be feasible,” admitted Etienne.

“The fewer people who know the better.”

“I propose activating the agents prematurely. I want to issue instructions that they come to Port Charles and pick up their assigned equipment,” said Etienne.

“If they come privately by car, distribution will take some time. Some are in California, correct?” asked Ashton.

“Yes. But we have all the time in the world. We don’t have to rush,” added Arielle.

“The conference will be very high proﬁle. How can we keep our ENTIRE operation under wraps afterwards? Do we have contingencies? I say we transfer the shipment out of Port Charles immediately. South Carolina is ideal,” said Ashton forcefully.

“No one will know of our involvement in the conference’s aftermath. We’ve planned it that way, Larry,” said Arielle. “I mean we’re going to be one of the hostages. Who will suspect us?”

“And Compound X will make sure that any memory the delegates end up with will be memories that we put there. I don’t see a problem,” said Etienne.

“All right. All right. You two know that end of the business far better than I. I shall leave it to you two,” said Larry. “Speaking of Compound X, how are we getting our supply of it?”

Etienne laughed. “In a week, a package will be delivered here to the hotel. Inside will be Compound X disguised as a new kind of powdered cleaning solvent. The packaging will be in small packets similar to the kind handed out at trade fairs as samples. Each packet is suﬃcient dosage for one individual. No measuring and no mess.”

“Ingenious,” said Arielle.

“I thought so.” said Etienne smugly. “Application of Compound X is very simple. We mix it in the delegates food or drink. They won’t remember ingesting anything of signiﬁcance. None of that complex airborne dosing that the original carbon disulﬁde required. Compound X is as advertised - simple and eﬀective.”

“And the antidote?” asked Ashton.

“Ah, none is required.”

“What do you mean?”

“A recent development, Larry. Our scientists found a way to make the eﬀects of Compound X permanent with no residual toxicity in the body,” said Etienne. “Once the subject ingests Compound X, we must make the suggestion and command within two hours. The suggestion is implanted in the subject’s mind permanently. Compound X leaves the bloodstream naturally within a few hours thereafter.”

“Mental programming is not permanent,” said Ashton ﬂatly.

“This one is. Our scientists have found no way to reverse or eliminate the suggestion or command once implanted. It is doubly diﬃcult because the suggestion is implanted in the subconscious mind. That is permanent enough for me.”

“What will stop the subject from thinking that it’s all a dream since it is in the subconscious? People do not, in my experience, act out their dreams,” said Ashton. “Didn’t those old DVX experiments with the subconscious fail?”

“Yes, they did. Cesar Faison’s team was skilled but even they were unable to harness the power of the subconscious as we have done. With the help of Compound X, their subconscious will subtly instruct the subject during their waking times to behave and make decisions favorable to our suggestions and commands. It’s foolproof.”

“How foolproof?”

“We are carrying out a ... a test now. A ﬁeld test one could call it. The results will speak for themselves,” said Etienne.

“What kind of test?” asked Ashton.

“A test on someone we know who has a strong will and, potentially, the resources to attempt a ... a cure,” said Etienne. “A doctor as it happens. We will know very soon how eﬀective the test is. I believe that it will be all the convincing you will need, Larry.”

* * *

A small cabin in the woods outside of Rochester, New York 6PM

The two bedroom cabin was located on a dead end gravel road far away from highways and population centers. It sat on its parcel of land obscured by a copse of trees. No neighbors could be seen for many miles around. There was nothing outwardly special about it. Its principal charm was its close proximity to the Canadian border.

Charlotte Devane unpacked the last of her suitcases. As she put away her things, she conversed with her host, Helena Cassadine. On the bed was a series of newspapers - The New York Times, the Port Charles Chronicle and others.

Helena took a sip of her wine as she perused the Chronicle. “There is nothing like a well executed plan is there, Charlotte? It can be a thing of exquisite beauty.”

Charlotte smiled. “I bow to my superior in strategy. Your plan inside a plan is worthy of Machiavelli.”

Helena laughed dryly. “I cannot take credit for that. A dear friend with a grand vision devised it over many, many years. I am fortunate that through her means I am able to achieve my own goals.”

“You have spoken several times of this friend. Will I have a chance to meet her? Is she another whom you have helped in their time of need?”

“Soon you’ll meet. I promise you,” assured Helena. “I met Elena by accident. Well, I now think our meeting was an act of Fate. She needed money and I needed her contacts to protect me when I was cast out from the family temporarily. I gave her the time and the money to recuperate. It was in the days and years of her recuperation that she envisioned this master plan.”

“A plan close to fruition,” said Charlotte. “I marvel at the intricacy of it. So many moving parts yet all are still in concert and harmony with each other.”

“Elena has a gift for logic, strategy and tactics. Her people are utterly loyal to her.” said Helena. “I suppose her condition has allowed her to see beyond the pettiness of the world to see and reach for something noble and profound - to change all of society for the better.”

“You admire her then?”

“I can relate to her single-minded devotion, vision and will. Those are qualities I admire. They are qualities that you possess, Charlotte.”

“My goals are not nearly as overarching in their implications. I want what I lost. It is as simple as that.”

“Are you prepared to meet her then?”

“I have observed and, yes, admired Anna Devane from a distance for so long. I am fully anticipating meeting her in person.” Charlotte’s smile was not friendly at all. “From all reports, she is diﬀerent from her twin.”

“Fiery where Alex is aloof. Cunning where the other is guileless. I look forward to battling wits with her. I truly do.”

“You are very conﬁdent that the child Emma will be in your possession soon.”

“I am. The plan is simple. The simplest plans are the ones that work best.” said Charlotte.

“Compound X is a proven commodity. As long as it can be administered eﬀectively the plan should work,” Helena added.

“Robin Scorpio’s movements and habits have been studied for some time. The agents have ... access to her. It is a matter of when not if,” said Charlotte. “Then we shall disappear into Canada and then beyond.”

“Anna and Robert will pursue.”

“Undoubtedly. However, under our suggestive commands, their own child will gladly hand over her child for adoption or guardianship. All legal at least on the surface. It should pass any cursory border examination. Ideally, I would prefer to have a completely new identity for the child before we leave the country.”

“Robin is much like her mother. She will not rest until her child is found,” commented Helena.

“She’ll be quite rested when she’s dead.”

“So, you do plan to inject her with the full AIDS virus?”

“It is a contingency only but one I shall not hesitate to employ,” said Charlotte gravely. "Will Anna or Robert want to be parted from their dying child even to look for a lost grandchild?"

"Others will be enlisted to search for the child," cautioned Helena.

"A new identity is, as I said, the best solution," said Charlotte. "However, I do not want to linger here once the child is in my possession. Forged or vaguely legal documents will suﬃce in the interim."

"I agree." said Helena. "You've thought of everything."

"I plan to raise Emma to become my heir. When the time is right, Helena, we will arrange her contribution to the Cassadine family."

"One egg is all I require."

"I thought you had in mind that Emma be paired with your great grandson Spencer."

Helena shook her head vigorously. "No longer. I cannot abide with the ... the impurity of Spencer or Nikolas. Curse that Laura! Because of her, we have become an inferior line."

"Then how do you propose to change that?"

"I lost my son Stavros. I swear the second the time was harder than the ﬁrst," Helena said. "He was the last true heir to Mikkos. The strongest, The smartest. The boldest. I was fortunate to have frozen samples of his DNA and sperm. Using in vitro fertilization, Stavros' sperm and a surrogate mother, I shall have the heir of my dreams. It could not be more elegant."

* * *

The Heritage Foundation in Vienna

Outside, a layer of fresh fallen snow carpeted the Foundations’s expansive grounds. The impressive four story ediﬁce had once been a private abbey and church instructing the scions of wealthy aristocrats. After the ﬁrst world war, it had been renovated into a private care hospital. Now, the ﬁrst three ﬂoors housed the Foundation’s main oﬃces as well as serving as its primary research and health facility.

Elena Villiers was wheeled out of her room by her trusted attendant, Elia, for her daily constitutional.

“Elia, take me to see the children. I ... I want to be inspired by their example.”

“Yes, madam.” Elia wheeled Elena into a private elevator. Her ﬁngers played over the panel. Unlike the other elevators at the Foundation, this panel had an extra button. It rose to the fourth ﬂoor.

The elevator ﬂoor opened and they were greeted by a large man dressed in white coverall. His stance was military perfect despite his medical uniform. He nodded at Elena. “Madam, it is good to see you here.”

“Pietro, I have not seen you for a while. How is your daughter?”

“The operation on her heart valve was successful. If you see her playing on the playground now, you could not tell how sick she had been,” answered Pietro.

“That is what we want for all children. Remember that, Pietro.” said Elena. “Our ... techniques may be unorthodox but our goal is always the welfare of the world’s children to see that their world is safer than ours.”

Pietro escorted them through a set of locked doors into a part of of the fourth ﬂoor that seemed to resemble college dormitories. There adult attendants cared for other adults with various ages of disability. Some of the patients shuﬄed instead of walking straight. Others seemed to have no control over their arms which gestured and ﬂailed by their sides. A few patients seemed physically unharmed but one only had to look at their vague or crossed eyes to know that the injury was mental not physical.

It was to these last groups of patients that Elena gravitated to. These patients had made the greatest contribution to the Foundation’s research and the Foundation’s gratitude was expressed in their lifelong care. These patients were a mix of ages and nationalities. Few had any family to speak of in the outside world.

Elena stopped by the side of a woman of middle years who alternated brushing her long brown hair and ﬁngering a multi-colored scarf tied loosely around her neck. The scarf was old and its edges were badly frayed.

“Elia, please see to replacing this scarf. It’s so old.” instructed Elena.

“We have tried, madam. It is her favorite. She always picks that one among the many other scarves we have given to her.”

“Well, in that case, ﬁnd one that is exactly like it. She has given much to our cause and we owe her.” Elena moved away from the woman to the next patient.

Unaware of the singular honor she had been granted by Elena’s visit, Therese Curic sat brushing her hair humming a rhythmic tune under her breath. Her words were unintelligible and she managed little more than a singsong rendition. As she had done for over a decade, Therese brushed her hair and docilely waited for her caregivers’ next command.

These patients were cared for very well and gently. They were far from violent after all. The earliest versions of Compound X had eliminated any violent or anti-social tendencies especially among prisoners of war and criminals. The scientists of the Foundation were quite proud of their accomplishments.

What did a few human wrecks matter to the overall beneﬁt to society and scientiﬁc knowledge? History books only remember scientiﬁc breakthroughs and discoveries, don’t they?


End file.
